It All Comes Round
by bushlaboo
Summary: During the blackout Emily and Patrick share a bonding experience, but facing the fallout from that night causes things to go from bad to worse for the twosome. Will Emily and Patrick be able to rely on each other as things turn upside down? Patrick & Em
1. Chapter 1

**Note**: Things are pretty much like they are on the show before the blackout, however, the date Noah set Patrick and Robin up on didn't end the same way. They did talk everything out, but instead of starting a relationship back up, they decided to remain friends. Otherwise everything that is currently happening on the show (such as Patrick's HIV scare, Ric/Sam and Jason/Elizabeth) holds true; except Alexis tells Sonny she has cancer the night of the blackout at the Metro Court – when Ric showed up at Sonny's house he was going to share, but his brother's confession about sleeping with Sam stopped him. Also since hates me, breaks with look like this -- !BREAK!

Just a week ago getting trapped in elevator with a beautiful woman would have been a fantasy come true for Patrick Drake. He was man who enjoyed the company of women, particularly intelligent beautiful women. When it came to the opposite sex he wanted more then the quick heat of passion. He wanted a challenge. As Robin once pointed out him, he wanted a little witty repartee while he seduced women into his bed. He hadn't argued with her evaluation because she had been right – it was an annoying habit of Dr. Scorpio's. That was one of the reasons Patrick had ended the _benefits_ part of friendship when he did. He didn't want or _need_ someone seeing through him. Into him.

Since that fateful dinner that's exactly what he and Robin had been. Friends and colleagues, but now that was shifting again and had been ever since April's surgery and his exposure to end-stage AIDS. Some of the staff avoided him like the plague, others offered sympathetic words of condolences, while very few people – like Elizabeth – offered true support and friendship. Robin tried to give that to him as well, but she couldn't hide the haunted look in her eyes, and Patrick knew why. She wasn't seeing him, not really, she was her first love, Stone, and what he suffered.

He hated the fact that he was making her relive that overwhelming grief so he'd done his best to avoided her since the surgery. It was a wholly selfish act. A need to preserve himself. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel anything, he just refused to be dependant on anyone. He didn't want to care so much about a person that it physically hurt when they were gone from his life.

That brought Patrick back to the woman occupying the elevator with him. Emily Quartermaine. He could sense the hurt he was so desperate to avoid coming off her in waves. It was enough to make him antsy. Shifting uncomfortably Patrick wiped the sweat from his brow. They'd been stuck in this tiny space for almost an hour. When the elevator first shuddered to a halt Emily shook her head and muttered, "Perfect," under her breath as she slid to the floor. He'd felt her soft brown eyes on him as he stabbed numerous buttons in hopes of getting the thing to move. When that didn't work he slammed his hand in frustration against the metal door and shouted for assistance.

There had been no response and knowing that it would be futile to bang on the door or continue to yell, he followed in Emily's footsteps and sank to the floor. He expected her to speak then, but she hadn't. Instead her gaze dropped to the floor and she proceeded to ignore him. He hadn't exactly felt chatty at the time either, but after almost an hour of silence as the temperature began to uncomfortably rise was more then enough for Patrick. If he was going to be miserable then he damn well wasn't going to suffer alone.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Her voice soft and filled with empathy surprised Patrick. He'd been ready to leap across their confined prison and shake her in hopes of getting attention. Apparently he already had it. "No," he replied. Her eyes lifted and he could see doubt clouding them. There was also the urge to protest, but she held herself back. It occurred to Patrick then if he was picking up on her hurt vibe, it was very likely she was picking up on how uncomfortable he was, only she thought it was their surroundings causing it.

He wasn't about to admit differently. The last thing he wanted was for Emily to even guess at the reason for the slight bit of panic he felt. More so for his _pride_ then her feelings. "Really," he insisted, "I'm not. It's just hot in here. Not to mention uncomfortable." He emphasized this point by knocking on marble floor of the elevator. The beige titles were warm, like the air around them, against his knuckles.

Patrick took her squirming as an agreement to his proclamation. "Are you? Claustrophobic I mean."

"No, but depending on how long we're stuck in here that might change," she answered, a hint of humor in her voice.

"You and me both," he grinned.

Thanks to the small amount of emergency lighting in the elevator Emily caught the full effect of Patrick's undivided attention and smile. It was kick to her senses and she felt her heart rate increase. Then again what woman wouldn't react to him, she wondered. He was a fantasy come to life – sexy, charming, intelligent and, if half the nursing staff was correct, one hell of a lover. In the abstract Emily could appreciate those qualities. A good time with no stings – that would certainly keep people from getting their hearts broken and with the fresh pain of losing Sonny, she could see the appeal of that kind of arrangement.

Then again so much would be missed out on if you couldn't risk you heart. No one would truly know you, and therefore no one would really love you – _the whole you_. Having lost so much at a young age Emily had learned that things weren't important, people were. Even if she got her heart broken a million more times she knew showing someone she loved them, and feeling their love in return was worth the pain. She thought it was a shame that Patrick didn't realize that because he was missing out and so was Robin.

"So …" she let the word hang between them. Emily didn't know what to say to Patrick. Before she had been with Sonny he had flirted with her. Outrageously. Then there was their interesting date a Jake's, but whatever friendship there was between them fell to the wayside when the epidemic hit. Her focus had been Sonny and Patrick's attention seem to fall exclusively onto Robin. She would see him in the hospital and they'd exchange pleasantries, but she didn't have the kind of easy friendship with him that Elizabeth did. And thanks to the gossip mill she knew about his exposure, but she wasn't exactly sure to say to Patrick. Nor was she sure he'd accept any kindness from her because they weren't friends.

They weren't anything to each other and now they were stuck in a tin can for the foreseeable future. Emily didn't think she could handle the quiet, but breezy conversation didn't seem plausible.

"Are you meeting Elizabeth?" he asked. The question puzzled her. The last time she'd spoken to her friend she had been apologizing for not being able to make it to Lulu's birthday party. She hadn't been up for facing all the happiness.

"No. Why?"

The second he asked the question Patrick knew he'd stepped into it. He didn't need see the confusion marring Emily's brow to realize that. It was probably common knowledge around the hospital by now that Lucky had cheated on Elizabeth with Maxie Jones. True he hadn't seen Emily there, but he assumed that Elizabeth would have told her. They were best friends after all.

As were Emily and Lucky, he remembered. _The Four Musketeers_. That's how Elizabeth had laughingly referred to them. He'd seen the bond between the four of them with his own eyes when Lucky was injured. They'd seem to speak without words and conveyed more support with one touch then he'd seen others share while clinging. He had friends, but not like that. The bond he'd seen between them was deeper, stronger and too damn _permanent_. It was a different kind of love, but love nonetheless, and like romantic love it was something to be avoided.

"No reason."

"You expect me to believe that?" Emily scoffed. "You can't ask a pointed question and say it has no meaning."

"Sure I can," he fired back. "I just did."

"Oh really?" There was an unexpected edge to her voice and he suddenly remembered the gleam in her eye when she defended herself at Jake's. "Care to explain why you've been avoiding Robin all week?"

Emily saw him flinch. The movement was so slight that others might had missed it, but having a brother like Jason made it easier to pick up on the little things. She instantly regretted her question and the attitude she thrown behind it. She was hot, grumpy and broken hearted. None of those things were Patrick's fault, and taking them out on him just because he was there wasn't fair. He was dealing with enough as it was, he didn't really need her crap thrown on him. Before she could apologize though he spat out, "I haven't been avoiding Robin."

That fact was laughable, Emily knew. Just the other day she and Robin had commiserated over chocolate shakes at Kelly's. She had expressed her heartache over Sonny and Robin her concern for Patrick. Robin has also insisted that her fears weren't because of any romantic feelings she had for Patrick. That part of their relationship was over with and she was fine with it. When her friend shared that with her Emily had let out an indignant snort, but Robin held her ground. "You know, you and Robin are both protesting a little too much. It's obvious that you care about each other."

"I don't care about _anyone_, at least not like that." Patrick's voice was hard and defensive, his hazel eyes were alight with annoyance.

"Fine," she snapped throwing her arms in the air. "Live in denial. It's not my problem!"

"No," he ground out in agreement. "It's not."

!BREAK!

The silence ticked away endless as the air around them thickened with heat. Emily was feeling all shades of uncomfortable and she wasn't pleased by it. Admittedly some of it could be blamed on Patrick, but the majority of it had nothing to do with him. Her heartbreak wasn't his doing, nor her current predicament of being stuck in an elevator. He was trapped just as much as she was and he also happened to be under an enormous amount of pressure. She knew what it was like having to face a life threatening disease. She hadn't handled it well and she could hardly blame Patrick for his surly disposition.

Still after forty-minutes of trying to avoid each other Emily was tired. She didn't want to sit in this damnable elevator with another person and feel so alone. If that meant that she had to take the first step then so be it. Lifting her gaze, her dark eyes met Patrick's before he glanced away. "I'm sorry."

She saw him stiffen. Again it was a slight move, barely noticeable. "Fine," he replied still doing his best to ignore her.

"No, I mean it," Emily stated earnestly. She wasn't sure if it was the tone in her voice or her words, but Patrick's gaze once again met hers. With a hesitant smile she continued, "And I'll prove it."

"You don't need to," he said offering his own half smile. Seeing it Emily realized that under different circumstances Patrick could be dangerously sexy. She could appreciate him for that and leave things alone, but she couldn't help but feel that Patrick could use a friend. A _real _friend, someone he could lean and count on. She had that kind of relationship with Lucky and Elizabeth, and even Nikolas.

It was obvious he wasn't looking for one. By all accounts – well Robin's and Elizabeth's – he was doing his best to avoid developing a deeper connection with anyone. Patrick might not be willing to admit it, but he needed a friend now. He needed support and she couldn't help but respond to that need. That's what she did. Granted it had gotten her into trouble in the past, but she couldn't deny that part of herself. If she was going to have any hope of opening Patrick up, Emily knew she had to offer up a piece of herself first. "I'm serious Patrick. Go ahead and ask me anything. I'll answer it," she said solemnly. "It doesn't matter what you ask. I'll tell you the truth."

The naked honesty behind her words pulled at something inside him. Patrick wasn't sure he could articulate what Emily had touched, but she had touched _something_. It was terrifying and thrilling, and though unnerved he felt compelled to take her up on her offer. "Why did your marriage to Nikolas fail?"

He saw something flash in eyes that he couldn't place. Sadness, he thought but couldn't be certain. "You want to know about my marriage?" she asked puzzlement marring her face.

It did seem like a rather odd question coming from him. He wasn't one for commitments but from the rumor mill at the hospital he'd learned about her marriage. It had been considered a fairytale, true love, and all that nonsense he didn't believe in. Everyone else seemed to and had been disheartened when the two divorced, but none so more then Amy Vining, Head Gossipmonger. "_If Emily and Nikolas couldn't make it work what hope is there for us?" _he heard her lament once.

Being a man who wouldn't allow himself to get that deep into a relationship, he still found himself interested by them. Why would anyone be willing to trap themselves like that? Especially when relationships were bound to end. Perhaps, it wasn't so much an interest in why things ended, but how could a marriage end and the two parties remain friends like Emily and Nikolas had. Patrick had trouble wrapping his head around that but gossip hadn't been able to enlighten him. Whenever the topic of what split Nikolas and Emily apart came up Amy became unusually quiet. She obviously knew something but she never elaborate. She merely said it was "Complicated," and left it at that.

Feeling like a complete idiot Patrick explained that he knew about her relationship with Sonny, hell he had played a small role in their mating dance. That comment garnered an amused snort from Emily. He also revealed the amount of gossip that was still in circulation about her marriage – something she was none to pleased to hear. Though Amy's insistence to only state that their breakup was complicated and nothing else clearly cheered her some. "It's hard ignore hospital gossip when working with Amy."

Emily chuckled, "Believe me, I'm well aware of that. Amy just likes to be in the know. It's kind of endearing actually, because she's not malicious about it."

"True, but she is one hell of a busybody," he pointed out earning another laugh from Emily. One that was filled with less tension. The fact that he noticed the inflection of her laugh startled him. Being causally friendly was one thing, but noticing the difference in a person's laugh was a little too close for comfort. "It was ridiculous question and I shouldn't have asked it. Just forgot about it."

"Too late for that," she told him a look of determination settling over her features. "You asked and I promised the truth. I just need you to promise me something."

_Promise her something_. His stomach turned at the request. He didn't make promises. He wasn't that guy. And yet he was intrigued. What kind of promise would Emily Quartermaine require and why? He'd always been a curious person. He wanted to know more, to do more. Knowledge and experience were a driving force in life, and that's what had him saying: "What do I need to promise?"

"That you won't see me as some fragile little girl."

Emily's womanly curves were hard to hide, even in hospital scrubs, so it was hard to picture her as a little anything. Fragile, however, was another issue. There was a … _softness _about Emily, but after seeing her at Jake's he also knew that she was a woman who could handle herself. Just has she'd done through the epidemic. And looking at her now, sitting across from him covered in sweat on an unforgiving marble floor without compliant Patrick didn't see single thing fragile about her. It would, he thought, be an easy promise to make and keep; and knowing that made the decision easier. "I promise."

His declaration seemed to please her. "All right then," she sighed. "Amy's right – not so much that the reasons behind my divorce are complicated, but the circumstances."

Patrick listened intently as Emily spoke of the Cassadine legacy and how far Helena, Nikolas' grandmother, would go to insure it. He listen while she told him of a false murder and a prison sentence baring down on the Prince. It could have been melodramatic, except for the look on Emily's face when she spoke. He could hear it in her voice as well. The experience had cost her, as was it's re-telling, but she didn't stop. He watched as her face changed and her eyes sparkled as she recounted her wedding and watched sadness seep back into her eyes as she explained that Nikolas was dragged away to prison the next morning.

"We – Lucky, Elizabeth and I – were determine to prove that Helena was alive. And thanks to my sister, Skye, Luke was willing to help us. Of course he's always loved one-up Helena," she said with a amusement. "We worked out, what I thought at the time, was a perfect plan to bring Helena out of hiding. It worked to, but there were unexpected consequences."

His throat clogged at the way she said "consequences." Again Patrick both saw and felt a shift in her. Even though it felt like it was a thousand degrees inside the elevator Emily shivered. As she pulled he knees up to chest and wrapped her arms around them he wanted to tell her to stop. Things were getting way to heavy and way to _personal_ for him.

She must of felt his apprehension because she looked at him with a defiant challenge in her eyes. How the hell was he suppose to say stop to a look like that? Patrick wondered. "What was the plan?" he inquired, surprised by how uncertain his voice sounded.

"There was a man, Connor," she said his name with disgust. It was tone he never heard her use before and it surprised him. He seen her resilience but he never would have believed that there was a hard edge to Emily. "He looked like Nikolas. _Exactly_ like him," she stressed. "Their manners and demeanors couldn't have been more different though. I had to show him … explain to him how to be Nikolas. See, Luke's grand plan was to have Helena think that Connor and Nikolas had switched places and that Nikolas wasn't actually in jail. So Connor and I had to act like a … a couple," she stumbled over the word, "in public."

"The ruse worked. Helena thought Nikolas was free, but instead of showing her face like we hoped, she struck out and Connor – pretending to be Nikolas – and I had to go into hiding. Alone." Her eyes went wide with a dull a horror as she said that.

"Connor had _ideas_ about us." Patrick felt his stomach tighten. He knew whatever "ideas" Connor had were ones that Emily hadn't shared. He felt a fluttering of panic start in his chest. He was very afraid he knew where this was leading. "I made it clear to him from the very beginning that I had no interesting in him. _Whatsoever_. It was about freeing Nikolas, being with him again. Connor swore he understood. He was really convincing … assuring me that ALL he wanted to do was help. I was desperate enough to believe him. That was my first mistake, but not my last," she said sadly.

He knew then for certain what Connor had done to Emily, and selfish bastard that he was Patrick didn't want Emily to continue. If she said the words out loud he couldn't pretend to not to know the ugliness that had touched her. Not that he was certain he could even if she didn't confide him.

"I agreed to stay with him, _alone_. **I** convinced everyone that it would fine. **I** was the one foolish enough to think that Connor was my friend and that his intentions were good," her words came fast now, as if the speed of them would prevent the pain from assaulting her. "**I** was even willing to over look certain actions because coming out of hiding could have jeopardized the plan." Patrick watched silently as Emily's grip around her legs tightened. It looked like she was trying to make herself as small as possible, less of a target.

"I did a number of things wrong and that's probably why I blamed myself for what happened. But it wasn't my fault that Connor raped me." Patrick's breath caught even though he'd been expecting the words. He hated, he actually HATED the fact that cruelty people could do to each other had been inflicted on Emily. She was so kind, so giving, so _fragile_ – his mind rebelled at the thought. No one fragile could be sitting across from him sharing their pain.

His thoughts had him missing some of her words and he when he came back to her voice he heard say: "Just like it wasn't Nikolas' fault that man who attacked him had his face. We—I tried to get past that fact. I couldn't though. Being intimate with Nikolas, not just physically, but emotionally was too much for me. I tried, but it was forced … and fake. The passion that there between us before was snuffed out and nothing either of us did could bring it back."

Her generosity awed Patrick. He could damn well blame Nikolas for not giving her the time and space she so obviously needed, but she didn't. At least, she didn't put the blame squarely on him. No one fragile would be willing to accept their share of responsibility for mistakes made.

"No matter how much we were in love, we couldn't be close, and that drove Nikolas into Courtney's arms. And, while I was really ticked off about it for a time, and at them, I got over it." Her eyes flashed darker with the remembered anger, but it faded into acceptance as she went on. "I was hurt, Nikolas was hurt and we hurt each other. So much so that we couldn't hold onto our marriage and if we wanted to hold onto our friendship we had to let go of the fairytale." As she said those words Emily's arms fell from around her knees and everything about her loosened. "Every day since I'm glad we did. I still have my friend and I found the ability to love again. To give my whole heart. I didn't allow Conner to take those things from me," though her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears there was confidence in her voice.

"Whoever thinks you're fragile is a fool," Patrick stated passionately. He could understand why people might think she was fragile, but that was just a veneer. If you looked beyond it, like he was now, you could see Emily's strength. "Emily you might get chipped, but you don't break. I don't know why people don't see that but I do."

His words caused her to gape at him. She hadn't known what to except from Patrick, but his assertion that she was strong – that she wouldn't break surprised her. No one, not even Jason, had that initial reaction. She had noticed the tension, the abhorrence and the sadness Patrick felt while she spoke. She could still see the sorrow he felt, for the fact that she went through what she had, swimming in his eyes along with anger on her behalf, but he showed no need to coddle her. To try and make it all better. "Thank you."

Surprise crossed his face and Emily found that she liked putting it there. There was something powerful about being unpredictable and that surge of feeling wiped away the shadows from reliving the rape. Oddly enough she felt good, and Patrick's next words only lifted her up more: "You're a hell of a woman Emily."

Grinning she replied, "You're not so bad yourself Dr. Drake."

He returned her smile with one of his own. "This might sound like an odd request. And it's probably a hell of a time to make it, but could I kiss you?"

Patrick's requested startled her and Emily tripped over her reply, "You want to … to kiss me?" she questioned.

His shoulders sagged slightly, "Never mind. I shouldn't have asked."

"Why?" she pondered out loud.

"Because I've been exposed," his answer was terse, his annoyance impossible to miss.

"No, not that. I could care less about that Patrick." She hadn't know Stone as well as Lucky did, but she knew Robin. His exposure didn't bother her, but she couldn't fathom why he would want to kiss. So she asked him. "Why would you want to kiss me?"

"Emily," her name sounded like silk coming from his lips. "You're beautiful, smart, and brave as hell. Why wouldn't I want to kiss you?"

"Because I'm just coming out of a relationship," she said, knowing that she really didn't have to remind him of that, "and I don't want to start a new one."

"I'm not looking for a relationship Emily," he said leaning in towards her. "Even if I did relationships, I wouldn't start one until I've been cleared."

"So," she drew out the word as she leaned towards him without realizing it. "You just want to kiss me?"

"Yes," Patrick answered, his mouth inches from hers.

Staring up into his hazel eyes the temptation was great, but Emily still hesitated. "We kiss and then what?"

"Nothing. The kiss stays here in the elevator. Like it never happened," he promised.

Emily licked her lips. "Does everything stay in here? Does our friendship?"

Patrick couldn't deny a bond had form between them, and oddly enough he didn't want to. There was nothing all that dangerous about friendship. It was certainly easier to keep in check then anything romantic. "No," he answered. "That we keep."

"All right," she said breathlessly. "You can—" His lips settling over hers stopped her words. Patrick meant to keep the kiss light, _friendly_ even, but the feel of her lips – soft and giving under his propelled him to deepen the kiss even as he pulled her closer.

Enfolding her arms around him she parted her lips and felt Patrick's tongue sweep in. The sensation of their tongues dancing together thrilled her. She wanted blindly for the first time in her life and strained to meet that need, turning the kiss carnal. Emily felt his fingers tangle in hair as his mouth continued to plunder.

_More_. Even though he knew he shouldn't want more, Patrick still did. Instead of Emily's knees against his chest he wanted her flush against him. He wanted to feel her every curve and just as he figured a way to keep kissing her and get her closer he felt the elevator jump to life. The sudden shock of movement had them falling away from he other.

Unnerved by the want he caught in her eyes and his own reaction he joked, "So was that first time the earth moved for you?"

The outlandish question caused Emily to laugh. It was a rich and thick sound that echoed in the now moving elevator. "You're … so … lame," she said between giggles.

Patrick blinked at her unexpected response. He'd never in his life been called lame before. "It's ok," she said laughing so hard tears stung her eyes. "I won't … tell anyone."

!BREAK!

Patrick was getting use to starting the day tired. Spending his nights close to his toilet wasn't something he was use to, but he accepted the side-effects anti-viral meds, even if they made him feel lousy. Yawning he made his way up the steps to the fourth floor. He wasn't quite ready to tempt fate and step inside an elevator again. His mind flashed briefly to the kiss he shared with Emily. Enjoyable, but he refused to believe memorable, as he stepped out of the stairway.

Heading down the hallway to the locker room he noticed Epiphany, who nodded at him, and Patrick returned her gesture of welcome with an absentminded wave. The first bout of morning nausea had passed and he hoped to get his rounds done before the next inevitable wave hit him. With that determined thought in his head he ducked into the locker room only to bumped into Robin.

"Oompf," she breathed out stepping back from him.

"You okay?" he inquired, reaching out to steady her on her feet. The cross look on her face faded as she looked up and recognized him.

"Nothing broken," she answered her lips lifting with a smile. And for the first time in a week he returned it with one of his own. "Good," he said dropping his hand from her. Not having a lot of experience apologizing Patrick felt a nervous tension between his shoulders. "Ah, Robin," he started. Unsure of his words he paused and felt the weight of Robin's expectant gaze. An uncomfortable laugh escaped him. "I'm not any good at this."

"At what?"

"Apologizing," he admitted sheepishly. It was Robin's turn to laugh and Patrick enjoyed the sound. It had after all been a while since he heard it.

"I kind of knew that already," she informed him.

"Whatever could have given me away?" he teased. "I am sorry though Robin," Patrick said turning serious. "I've been avoiding you after all you've tried to do is help."

"I was trying to help you Patrick, but it wasn't just about you," she admitted. "I don't have right to push my baggage onto you."

"You weren't," he assured her. "I just … you were in pain, and I don't handle that well either."

"Most guys don't," Robin replied absolving him. "I know you're not use to leaning on anyone Patrick, but I want you to know I'm here if you need a friend."

"I appreciate that Robin," he said in earnest. "And I promise not avoid you anymore."

"Avoid me?" she questioned playfully. "I hadn't noticed." The two share their first comfortable laugh in a week before Robin said, "Actually that comes in handy, because I have some good news about April."

"Really? What?" Patrick inquired as reached into his locker. He was pulling his lab coat on when Robin happily reported, "Sonny's going to pay for April's care. Ms. Sneed won't be trying to evict her again. Sonny saw to that personally."

Patrick didn't feel comfortable around Sonny Corinthos. He was after all Port Charles answer to Michael Corleone, but he wasn't going to protest his assistance. April needed the best care available and she wouldn't get it at County. He also knew that Sonny was doing this for Robin and for Stone. Patrick couldn't help but respect him for that. "I wish I could have been there for that – Sonny Corinthos vs. Mrs. Sneed. Not exactly a fair match up, but that woman has been nothing but a pain, and completely uncaring towards April."


	2. Chapter 1 Continues

**Note**: And the first chapter got cut off. I didn't know there was a limit – so chapter one continues.

Robin grinned. "It would have been a sight, but April saw it. Heard it. She knows that she matters. That people care about her, and that's what is important."

"That it is," Patrick agreed with a nod.

"Well," Robin sighed, "I have rounds. See you around?" she asked hopefully.

"Are you kidding me? I fully expect to go head-to-head with you over the Holzman case later today," he replied looking forward to the battle.

"You have to give the protocol more time to work," Robin told him falling easily back into their repartee.

"You always say that," Patrick pointed out as they headed out of the locker room.

Robin scowled slightly, "We'll pick this up later," she promised as they turned to head in opposite directions.

"I look forward to it," he replied. There was a bounce in his step as he made his way to the nurses station to pick up his charts. For the first time since he'd be infected Patrick was in good mood, an _optimistic_ mood. He was even pleased to see Emily behind the nurses station organizing the day's charts. Approaching her he began to sing, "You make the earth move under my feet."

A chortled escaped Emily. "Keep that up Dr. Drake and I really will have to tell people how lame you are," she warned.

"No one would believe you," he stated confidently as he reached for his charts.

"Probably not," Emily agreed smiling up at him. She was pleased to see him looking so relaxed. "Your suave ways are legend here after all."

"They're not just legend here," he preened.

"Yes, I'm sure there are tales of Dr. Patrick 'Hottie' Drake all over the medical world," Emily teased.

"Hottie?" he queried with a crooked grin.

Emily felt herself blush, but was saved from having to respond to Patrick when Sonny called her name. "Emily," he smiled awkwardly as he approached the nurses station. His voice caused her heart to tighten. "Sonny," she answered his greeting somewhat breathless.

Sonny glanced past Emily and saw Patrick standing behind her. There was fierce look on the younger man's face that he couldn't interpret. "If you have moment," he said turning his attention back to Emily, "could I speak with you privately?"

"Yeah, of course," she answered. Though her reply had been quick there was uncertainty in her voice and Sonny hated that he put it there. "Robin already has Mrs. Holzman's chart," she told Patrick before scooting around the counter to join him.

Emily vaguely heard Patrick's, "Thanks," as she walked with Sonny to the small alcove with a plush chair and loveseat. Her nerves were on edge as she purposely sat in the chair so that there could be a small amount of physical distance between them. She could see the worry on his handsome face as he sat down across from her. Instinctively she asked, "What's wrong?"

!BREAK!

Feeling frazzled and confused Elizabeth looked around the tenth floor nurses station hoping to see her best friend. She desperately needed to confide in Emily. Though how much she would actually end up telling her was still up for debate. Emily HAD to know that Lucky was addicted to pain pills and that he cheated her on and that she had left him. At least that was her intention. After her night with Jason – _God, how am I going to tell Em that I slept with her brother?_ – not to mention her talk with Nikolas this morning Elizabeth wasn't certain if she should try and forgive Lucky, let alone if she wanted to.

Yes, she loved her husband, more then anything. But the image of Lucky in bed with Maxie was permanently ingrained in her memory and she wasn't certain it was something she could get over. Part of her wanted to try. Lucky needed her, but the thought of raising her son with a _cheating_ drug addict turned her stomach. That, Elizabeth knew, she could not do.

After gazing around quickly and not spotting her friend, Elizabeth made a bee-line for Patrick. He appeared to be reviewing a file and she hoped that he might have seen Emily. "Hey Patrick," she greeted him. He was flashing her a smile as she steamrolled over his reply and asked, "Have you seen Emily?"

His smile didn't falter. "Good morning to you too."

"Sorry," Elizabeth apologized dragging an agitated hand through her long chestnut tress, "I just really need to talk to her."

Knowing flashed in his eyes and she felt the heat of embarrassment stain her cheeks. She'd been the one to tell Patrick about Lucky, but confiding in him had been different before. Safer, for some reason she couldn't pinpoint, but she didn't feel that way at the moment. Patrick was a friend, but not the kind she really need right now. She needed someone who knew her and Lucky almost better then they knew themselves, someone one without bias Nikolas had, someone who always seemed to know what to say so that everything made sense – she _needed_ Emily.

"You just missed her," he related. "Sonny showed up and they spoke briefly. Next thing Emily was begging Epiphany to get out of her shift. I've never seen _anyone_ sweet talk her before, but Emily managed. I wonder if she promised Epiphany her first born or something?"

"Perfect," Elizabeth muttered unable to appreciate Patrick's attempt at humor. "Just perfect."

"Hey, everything all right?" Patrick asked leaning closer, concern shimmering in his hazel eyes. If it had just been mild interest Elizabeth would have balked but he seemed to care. _Really_ _care_.

"No," she sighed. "I'm about a zillion miles from all right. In fact, I don't think I'll ever be near it again."

"Look I'm not Emily." That remark drew a snort of laughter from Elizabeth, "You are taller," she teased feeling somewhat normal for the first time in twenty-four hours.

"Don't forget prettier," Patrick kidded.

Smiling Elizabeth asked, "Are you sure you want to lend an ear for this?"

"For you, not a problem. How about some toxic coffee from the cafeteria?"

"Sounds great actually," she replied allowing him to steer her towards the elevator. "Though you might need something stronger then coffee by the time I'm through," she warned him as they stepped onto the empty elevator.

"And why's that?" Patrick inquired.

Elizabeth pushed the button for the cafeteria and waited for the doors to close before answering, "I complicated an already messy situation last night. After I left here I went to see an old friend – Jason Morgan, and well one thing led to another and we slept together."

There was ding as the doors slid open. "What was … You're going to have to run that by me again," he said as they stepped off the elevator, "because I could have sworn you just said –"

"Hey, not so loud Drake," Elizabeth warned. She gave a meaningful glance to all the people around them.

"Right. Sorry," Patrick muttered. "Something stronger would be good right about now, but since neither of us can indulge at the moment how about we find a private corner and you can start from the beginning?"

!BREAK!

"_Emily I could be dying. You of all people know what it is like facing this disease. Sometimes it takes a hold of you and doesn't let go."_

"_I know that Alexis, but it doesn't mean that it will with you. And, it doesn't mean you have to face this alone. You have Ric—"_

"_Ha! Yeah, I have Ric. My oh so _loving _husband who slept with my daughter last night. Great support system I have there."_

The conversation she had with Alexis was still swimming in her mind as she rode the elevator up to the penthouse. Emily's heart broke for Alexis, but her first thought after the bombshell had been dropped was of Jason. Her brother loved Sam, in away she'd never seen him love a woman before, and she slept with his _worst_ enemy. Emily wanted to hate her for that, but Jason had been the one to push Sam away. Not exactly into Ric's arms, but what had he expected? For Sam to never be with another person again?

Even though she promised Alexis not to tell anyone after she got her settled down, Emily knew she had to go to Jason. He had to know. And not just because he was her brother. The last time she kept quiet about an affair she'd seen things ended up blowing up in everyone's face. It wasn't a position she wanted to be in again.

"_I'll tell them about the cancer. I have to really. Kristina and Molly are going to need Ric and Sam now more then ever. And if I die—"_

"_Alexis don't talk like that. You have to _fight _this. I know staying positive is hard, but you have to hold onto everyone you love and everything you care about and use that to keep fighting. You can survive this."_

"_Believe me Emily, I want to. I don't want to leave my girls, but I have to be practical. That's who I am. I have to make sure that my girls will be safe and together no matter what. Whether I survive this cancer or not that's my job, because I'm their MOTHER."_

So Alexis wasn't going to tell Sam and Ric she knew about their affair. That was her choice and Emily doubted that Jason would go around telling people. Of course there was always a chance he might go after Ric. That was a very real possibility and it worried her.

She would just have to explain that Alexis needed Ric right now. She needed her husband and her daughter to get through her illness like she had needed him. He wouldn't like it, but he'd leave Ric alone. At least for the time being.

Even though she was unsure of her actions, not to mention her motivations, Emily hurried off the elevator and knocked on Jason's door. The sight the greeted her stunned Emily. Jason stood inside the penthouse shoulders bent with anguish on his face. _He knew_, was all she could think. "Hi," she said rather lamely before stepping through the doorway and wrapping her arms around him.

Jason sighed and closed the door before he returned her embrace. Lifting her eyes she met his gaze, "I guess I don't need to tell you about Sam," she said softly.

"How did …" he started to question. Instead of finishing he shook his head and told her: "I don't really want to talk about this now Emily."

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she replied. "I'm just here. Okay?"

"I appreciate that, but I don't want you here right now." Seeing the flash of hurt on her face he clarified, "I don't want anyone here."

"So you rather be alone and miserable? Or is this because we're still not okay?" she challenged.

He scrubbed a hand over his tired face. "We're okay Emily."

"Then let me help you," she implored.

"There isn't anything you can do. It happened."

"And that's it? Sam slept with Ric," she stated and watched him flinch at her words. Softening her tone she continued, "Jase, I how that feels. Seeing that – it rips out your heart and leaves you raw."

"I can't do this Emily," he said his voice strained. "I can't talk about my feelings. It doesn't change anything."

"I know," Emily sighed, wishing she had the words to help her brother. "I just …" _What?_, Emily wondered. She wanted to help her brother. To be his rock like he'd been hers in the past. "I'm here Jason. Whatever you need I'm here for you," she said dropping her gaze she surveyed the apartment. It was a mess and the wreckage made her breath catch. "I just wanted to tell you that."

"I know," he replied touching her shoulder. She lifted her gaze back to him and smiled hesitantly. She could see love and appreciation in his blue eyes along with the anguish he felt. They were things he would never vocalize, but then again they had never really needed words. They just knew. "If you want to help someone you should help Elizabeth," he told her.

"Elizabeth?" she questioned. First Patrick had mentioned something and now Jason. "Why would she need my help?"

Surprise flashed in Jason's eyes. "She hasn't told you?"

"Apparently not," Emily said agitated. It had been one hell of a morning so far. Seeing Sonny again and talking to him all the while pretending like their relationship hadn't happened. That she didn't love him and miss him so much that it physically hurt. Then going to Alexis. Comforting and assuring her when she knew the odds of survival better then anyone, and now this?

"You should go see her," he advised her. "She needs you right now,"

"Why?"

"That's for Elizabeth—"

"Jason please don't give me that crap now," Emily snapped. "I have to know what's going on. _Now_."

"It's Lucky," he said resignation in his voice. "He's addicted to his pain medication and is having an affair," he told her in his quick, succinct way.

"Oh," Emily breathed out completely floored by the news. "I knew Lucky was … God. I have to – are _sure_ you're you don't want me to stay?"

"Yeah."

"All right. Look, I'm going to be back tonight with dinner and I don't want any arguments. I know your refrigerator is bare and you won't order in so I'm brining you dinner. And I promise, no talking, except for another pool lesson. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed.

"Good," Emily replied giving him a quick hug before heading out. She heard her cell phone beep as she waited impatiently for the elevator. Odd she hadn't even heard it ring. Hearing Patrick's voice on the on message surprised her. "Hi Emily, it's Patrick. We need talk. Give me a call?"

Emily shook her head at his request. What could Patrick Drake want to talk to her about? Well, whatever it was it would have to wait. "Sorry Patrick," she mumbled escaping out of her message system before dialing a familiar number. "Hey Lucky, it's Em," she said after two rings. "Yeah, we need to talk."


	3. Chapter 2

**Note**: I wanted to thank you all for your lovely reviews. I hope you guys enjoy what's coming with this story. And, as before breaks are gonna look like this – !BREAK!

Two weeks of sitting and waiting were taking a toll on him. Everyday he came to sit by her bedside. He would hold her hand and hope that today would be the day that she'd open her eyes. Those soft and knowing eyes that reflected his image back at him – in those eyes he'd been a better man. He hadn't been able to live up to that man, at least not yet, but there was chance now. Emily was free of Sonny Corinthos, and while his world had turned upside, all she had to do was open her eyes and Nikolas knew it would right itself. All he needed – all _they_ really needed – was Emily.

Glancing down at his watch he realized that it was time to get back to Spencer. Nikolas didn't want to leave though. What if Emily woke up while he was gone? What if she was alone she did? That last fear was pointless he knew. Emily was rarely alone. Someone was always sitting with her – her family, Elizabeth, or Sonny. Hell, even some of the hospital staff came by.

Selfishly he wanted to be the one in the room with her when she awoke from the coma. He wanted to be the reason she came back to them, like before with the cancer. Sighing, Nikolas squeezed her hand, "I'll be by tomorrow," he promised.

He was beginning to stand when he saw her eyes flutter. Nikolas paused and stared. Fluttering wasn't unusual but hope built in his heart. "Emily," he said softly.

Her eyes fluttered again, then to his astonishment and relief they opened. Her dark eyes were clouded, but they were open and _alert_. A huge grin spread across his face. "Em, you're back."

She heard someone talking her. Telling her she was back. Back from where? she wondered. The room around was unfamiliar and she hurt all over. Trying to focus beyond the pain she looked over towards the voice. It belonged to a guy – he seemed tall and had dark eyes and hair. Excitement was written all over his face, which was as unfamiliar to her as room around her.

"Emily," he said the name with reverence as he reached for her. Confused by his tone she recoiled from his touch.

"Em?" he questioned looking just as confused as she felt. "Em are you all right?"

_Em._ _Emily._ Why was he calling her that? Why was he reaching for her? Expecting something from her? To answer the stranger's question she shook her head. That meant no she knew. Okay, how do I know that but not who this guy is, or why he's calling me Emily? she pondered fighting against the building panic she felt.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll fix this," he assured her before rushing to the door and calling for a doctor Drake. _Fix this?_ she thought. _She was a person. How the hell did he expect to fix her? _The stranger waited by the door. She could feel the impatience rolling off of him and it made it difficult for her to think. Pain, ugly room, and the need for a doctor – she was in a hospital, but why?

Finally another form rushed into the doorway. He was taller and leaner then the stranger. He was also wearing a lab coat. The doctor. As he came closer she noted that he was younger then she expected. Following behind him was the dark haired stranger who eyed her with entitlement. "Emily," the doctor said that name again, but unlike the stranger there was no possessiveness in his voice.

"What's with this _Emily_ thing?" she finally spoke looking at the two men. They exchanged a worried glace and she felt her frustration bubble. "Doc can we do this without an audience?" she requested.

"Whatever you want," he replied. She could see the concern on his face, but it didn't chafe at her. He was her doctor after all. Memory loss, at least that was the only she could think of to explain the fact that she had no idea who she was, should damn well concern him.

It took him a few minutes to extricate the other man. All the "I should be here" and "Emily would want me here" protests pissed her off. If she was Emily, she sure has hell didn't want him in the room. Apparently _her_ wishes didn't matter to the man, but her doctor didn't back down and for that she was grateful. When Nikolas, the name her doctor had bestowed on the stranger, was finally out of the room and the doctor's attention was fully back on her she asked, "So you know me?"

"You're a medical student and intern here," he answered. His voice and stance completely professional, but there was fondness in his hazel eyes.

"So we're colleagues?" she inquired.

"Friendly colleagues," he clarified.

"Really?" that knowledge piqued her interest. "Just how _friendly_?" she found herself asking. Dr. Patrick Drake, as he name tag declared him, was a handsome man.

"Not that friendly," he answered with grin. She like how he didn't shy away from the question. He was honest and direct with her and she desperately needed that now. Still the urge to question and learn, not to mention flirt – _was she an outrageous flirt?_ – got the better of her. "Why not? And please tell me it's not because of that guy with a stick up his ass."

"Ah … no," Patrick answered with a laugh. "But you did just get out of a relationship."

Well that was news to her. Perhaps she had dumped the entitled one and he was hoping to use her … she didn't know what and at the moment she didn't really want to deal with her lack of knowledge so she continued to flirt. "Okay, so why aren't we friendly then?"

She watched as he fought a sputter. And she was impressed when he managed to get his response out, "I don't do relationships."

"So?"

"You don't do causal," Patrick informed her.

Another surprising factoid. Here she was fresh from who knew what, with no idea who she was and flirting like a pro. If she didn't do causal was her flirting a defense mechanism or something? Whether it was or not she was definitely attracted to her handsome doctor. Still, now didn't exactly seem like a good time to contemplate a relationship of _any_ kind. "If you say so," she remarked putting an end to the topic and starting another one. "Is my name really Emily?"

!BREAK!

"_Jason, Emily is awake."_ Those had been the words he waited two weeks to hear. Impatient for them he done everything he could to fill up time. From supporting Sam, to consoling Elizabeth, to triple checking the books he knew Bernie had probably already double checked. He rode his motorcycle and listened to the supportive words Carly offered in between insulting Sonny and complaining about how he was interfering with her relationship with Jax. It was all a distraction, something to keep him of thinking of Emily, _his little sister_, laying pale in a hospital bed.

It was hard visiting her. She was such an animated person. Always moving, or feeling, or giving – that was his sister. All heart and smiles, and _strength_. He'd forgotten about that strength for awhile. He hadn't been there for her when she needed him most and Jason realized that was one of the reasons he'd pushed so hard to keep Emily from Sonny. To compensate for that. He hadn't been there to help her through her heartache, so he'd been dead set on preventing a new one.

His attempt failed. _Horribly_. Instead of helping his sister he alienated her, Sonny and Sam. He was managing to put his relationship with Sonny and Emily back together, but now he and Sam were further apart then ever and Emily …

Two weeks of darkness. Time stolen from her. Time she'd never get back. That anger him, but the feeling was overshadowed by the tone in Monica's voice when she called. Her words had been simple, direct – the way she knew he preferred them. But, her voice trembled, as if awake wasn't the celebratory state they'd been waiting on.

Riding up the elevator Jason couldn't help but wonder if the accident had caused any problems they hadn't been able to asset while Emily was in the coma. He thought of her back injury and her struggle to learn to walk. Would she have to face that again? he wondered. Jason knew it was pointless to speculate. Thinking about what-ifs didn't help because you could only deal with what you had. Right now he didn't have any facts, only the news for which he'd been praying. His sister was awake. He concentrated on that thought because it was a happy one.

Exiting the elevator he saw Patrick Drake, Emily's doctor, surrounded by the Quartermaines. "What are our options?" "What forms of treatment do you think would be best?" "Do you think it's permanent?" They fired questions rapidly, talking over each other so it was difficult to figure out exactly what was being asked and who was asking.

Shaking his head Jason decided to bypass the Quartermaine craziness. He felt trepidation walking down the hall. He knew by their questions that something was wrong with Emily, but what? Stepping into her open doorway he saw her sitting up in bed. The television in the room was on low and a 24-hour news station was reporting the latest Hollywood gossip.

It looked like Emily was only half paying attention to this as she studied a spot on the ceiling. He remembered being bored in the hospital as well. Looking at her she seemed fine. Healthy even. As he entered the room she finally took notice of him and her legs shifted. She didn't wince at the movement so that was one worry down. Smiling for the first time in days he made his way over to her side.

When tall, built and gorgeous stepped into her room Emily, as she was forcing to think of herself, had the urge to lick her lips. _Lord I'm surround by good looking me_, she thought watching the stranger; waiting for him to say something. She hoped for some clue as to how she knew him and should act around him. Though if he started spouting off like the Prince – a real Prince, she was still scoffing over that but Dr. Drake had assured her it was true – his handsome face wouldn't keep her from booting him out.

Instead of speaking though he walked over to her bed, a relieved smiled on his face, and took a hold of her hand. Oddly enough she didn't object to the bold move and she even welcomed his touched. It was the complete opposite of the reaction she had with Nikolas. She hadn't wanted him to touch her and he was as much as stranger to her as Blondie here.

Was it intent? she pondered, looking up at him with questioning eyes. As she gazed at him searching for answers, she saw fondness slip from his face. It was replaced first by confusion, then almost an understanding and sadness, before anger clouded his features. Even though she had watched the stages of his emotions play on his face, his sudden jerky movement startled her. He was almost out the door before she managed to call out: "Wait! Where are you going?"

His intense blue eyes fell on her. "To kill the guy who did this to you."

The words sent a shudder through her. He meant them, she knew he did. And somehow she _knew _he would carry through with his … threat? No, she thought. _His promise_. This caused Emily to gulp and she watched wide-eyed as he left her room. He was going to kill someone. Why wasn't she horrified by the thought? A normal person would be. No, it wasn't the thought of violence that had her scrambling out of her hospital bed to follow him, rather it was the thought of it being done in her name. A name she was still deciding if she even liked or not.

_There is something seriously wrong with me_. That thought floated through her mind as exited her room. Emily almost groaned when she saw that he was practically halfway down the hall. His strides were long and she was feeling weak and woozy. Who wouldn't be standing up right for the first time in two weeks?

It was difficult but she managed to gain a bit of ground before calling out to get his attention. "You. Hey YOU? Wait would you?" Getting no response she tried a different tactic. "Hello, my _ass_ is hanging out and I'm dragging an IV! Could you slow down? Yo! Tall, built and gorgeous," she hollered in desperation.

She felt a flush on her cheeks. She and the man she'd been following were now near the nurses station and there was a large party around Dr. Drake. She had heard them arguing as she made her way down the hall, but they all stopped and stared at her. Thankfully they weren't the only ones looking at her. She had the full attention of said tall, built and gorgeous.

Puffing slightly she asked the object of her frantic rush through the corridor: "What's your name?"

"Jason," he replied his voice monotone. She was surprised that he managed to keep the rage, so evident in his eyes, out of his voice.

"Well _Jason_ could you do me a favor?" He nodded and she made her request, "Catch me."

"What?" he asked clearly startled.

"Catch me," she pleaded feeling her knees give way. Emily had to give him credit. The Jason guy sure could moved fast. No sooner had she started to crumple then she felt his arms around her, bracing her for a moment before scooping her up into his arms.

Without paying attention to the chaos erupting behind them he started back down the hall towards her room. Holding her and steering the IV without difficulty. His style was another point for him, but before she decided whether or not she liked him they had one very important thing to clear up. "Could we like, _talk_, before you go off to kill in my name?"

!BREAK!

"No headache?" Patrick inquired as she followed his finger with her eyes. "Nope," she answered feeling silly. "I was just a little lightheaded."

"That can be expected with head injuries," he assured her. "What about any nausea?"

Emily made face. "I had a spell, but I think it's from the sludge that they try to pass off as food here."

"It is pretty awful," he agreed with a laugh. "But if you have anymore episodes I need know."

"Sure," she agreed as he scribble in her chart. "So, I created a big hullabaloo out there didn't I?"

"Yeah you did. It was kind of priceless actually," Patrick remarked. "It's not often that the Quartermaines are speechless."

"I got that impression earlier when they were in here bickering," she replied. "I guess it's nice that they care and all, but man are they loud. And obnoxious. Would I have say that before?"

"Before what? Their show out there?" he asked knowing full well that's not what she meant. Patrick wanted to give her an honest answer, but he wasn't sure how to respond. They had never discussed her family in great detailed. And after seeing her shrink away when Edward started listing her wonderful qualities; telling her how much like Lila she was, who he learned was the heart and soul of the Quartermaines, he didn't want to tell Emily who she was or how she was suppose to be. It was clear that she didn't appreciate it. If she asked it was one thing, but people trying to inflict their version of Emily on her – like Nikolas and Edward had – was not the way to go.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said clearly aggravated with him.

"I know. I shouldn't have been glib," he stated. "It's just that I don't know the answer to that one. I could give you a few recommendations to who could though. If you wanted that is."

Emily considered this for a moment. She'd already gotten an earful from the Quartermaines today and she didn't know how she'd handle another round of that. "Maybe tomorrow. So is everything all right? Besides my obvious lack of memory."

"Physically you're doing well," he relayed. "You suffered a number of superficial cuts and buries in the accident, but they're all but gone. Other then that hard of yours being conked and addled I'd say you're fairly good."

She snorted at his assessment and asked, "Do you think my being addled is permanent?"

"I didn't see anything in your test that would explain your memory loss Emily, so no, I don't think it's permanent. However—"

"There is always a but isn't there?"

"Medicine for all its tests, procedures and drugs is still an art _not_ a science. At least that's how I've always seen it," Patrick confided. "Every patient is different. People respond to drugs differently – for one person it could the thing that works while for someone else it could make their condition worse. Some things are just trial and error, which is why we'll be running another CT scan tomorrow."

"I doubt the picture will have changed, but thanks for the honesty and optimism Doc."

"You're welcome," he said with a smile, "and the name is Patrick."

"Right." She returned his smile and inquired, "So are visitors allowed?"

"If you like," he answered.

"Good because I need to talk to that Jason guy," she told him.

"Tall, built and gorgeous?" he asked causing her to blush.

"That would be the one," she confirmed.

"I'll send him in," Patrick promised before exiting the room. Emily could see through the closing door that the Quartermaines were waiting for him. They began peppering him with questions and she heard Patrick's raised voice through the door; telling them to: "Settle down people. I'm not answering any questions here." There were more protests, over which she heard him shout: "Emily would like to see you Jason."

The door to her room opened and she caught sight of Patrick trying to make his way down the hall encircled by the Quartermaines. "Quite a family I have there," she remarked.

"Quite a family we have," Jason replied. It wasn't often he claimed the Quartermaines as family, but he didn't want to cause any confusion for Emily. She needed to know the basics. Once she had that down though he wasn't going to provide her with any other information. He remembered how much he hated everyone telling him who he was suppose to be. He wouldn't do that to Emily.

"Oh," she sighed, her cheeks pinking with embarrassment. "So, you're my brother?" she questioned.


	4. Chapter 2 Continues

**Note**: Again, with the too long chapter. Sorry about that. Remember breaks are gonna look like this – !BREAK!

He could read the uncertainty in her dark eyes. "Yes," he answered sitting down on the chair beside her bed. The television was off now and he had her full attention. Once again he felt the weight of her questing gaze.

"I've seen my reflection," she told him. "We don't look anything alike."

How much to tell her? he wondered. "I could explain that if you want."

Emily recalled how she accepted his touch. How it had felt vaguely familiar. "That's okay," she replied. "You're my brother," she said coming to terms with what that meant. "I guess that explains the whole killing mood you're in." At its mention she saw his eyes flash with anger. He really wanted the guy who hurt her, whoever he was, to pay. "You're over protective right?"

"So you've complained on occasion."

That caused her to smile. It was such a brother thing to say. Still she could see how uncomfortable he was sitting there. And it was more then just being in the hospital. Something else, beyond his anger, was bothering him. "You're taking this kind of personal. I mean, yeah, I'm like your sister but this – the memory loss, it's more then just because of a family bond. Right?"

It went way beyond the fact that Emily was his sister. He could all but feel old resentments and frustration building up. The fear of not knowing anyone. The pressure to act the way people expected. But most of all the anger – at the situation, at himself and at Quartermaines. Jason hated the thought of Emily facing all of that. It was such a lonely, desperate place to be in. If he could spare her that he would. "It is personal," he finally answered. "A little over ten years ago I was in a car accident. According to the doctors I suffered serve brain damage and permanent memory loss."

He could see her mind working as she connected this new piece of information with everything she'd learned so far. Jason could also feel empathy coming off of her in waves. "I guess that explains the family."

"They didn't handle things well. I cut ties with them and I know they're scared that the same thing could happen with you now."

"What they don't learn from their mistakes?" she inquired.

"Not really, no."

"Do I learn – no, I don't want to know," she said with a shake of her head. "I rather figure that one out for myself," she explained. "But could you tell me, if you cut yourself off from the family why are you here?"

"We still talked after I left the family. You didn't expect to me to act like Jason Quartermaine would have. You were willing to let me be who I was. So few people were and I was grateful to have you in my life. But Emily, I won't lie to you. What you're facing right now – not knowing and dealing with everyone's expectations it's not going to be easy."

"You'll help me though right?" she asked sounding so very Emily to him.

"In anyway I can," he promised her.

"Good. Great actually," she paused and looked him over. _Her brother_. It was still an odd thought, but one she welcomed because Jason was different from the other people claiming to be her family. He ached like they did, but he wasn't pushing her. She got the sense that she could be any damn thing she wanted and it would be all right with him, and that was something _she_ – not this phantom Emily Quartermaine – needed. "You do get that means no killing anyone."

"If that's what you want."

!BREAK!

There were worse places to be then rehab. Lucky knew that but at the moment he couldn't name one. He felt trapped here in the clinic and he knew if Nikolas hadn't pulled every string he had and used Emily's name like a weapon he'd be in jail detoxing. He couldn't help but think that jail would be easier. The darkness he'd find there appealed to him. After all, he single-handedly ruin his life, his career and his marriage. And, to top it all off, he put his oldest and dearest friend in a coma. All for the pills and high he still craved.

Two weeks in rehab, and his own stupid behavior, hadn't stopped him from wanting the pills. He just knew better now. The pills hadn't helped him, but hurt him. Had hurt his family – _Elizabeth_ – and his friends. The guilt he felt was only matched by his desperation. His needed to get his life back … to get Elizabeth back. He had to make things right and be the man he was before the pills. The man everyone loved and relied on. His biggest fear was that man was gone, and even if he managed to find some part of him, Lucky knew that the desire for the pills would always be there. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to fight that thirst forever and if slipped again – if he hurt someone else he cared about again, he wasn't sure he could live with himself.

"Lucky." His brother's voice broke through his revere. Turning from the frames on his dresser he faced Nikolas. "What?" he asked feeling surly.

His brother ignored his attitude related the news – both good and bad – that he'd come to tell him. Emily was finally awake but she had no memory. "Maybe," he said after he had a moment to let it sink in, "maybe that's a good thing."

"A good thing?" Nikolas questioned disbelief written clearly on his aristocratic face. "How can you say something like that Lucky?"

"How can I not," he fired back. "Think about Nikolas. _Really think_," he insisted. "All the things Emily has had to deal with … her mother dying, the Quartermaines, her cancer, Zander, _your_ Grandmother's crazy antics, CONNOR! They never happened for her. She doesn't have to remember the pain."

"Like you?" Nikolas questioned, rage burning in his dark eyes. "You have to stand there and remember how YOU screwed up your life Lucky. How you hurt Elizabeth and Emily, not to mention _our_ sister and Cameron. I'm so sick of you feeling sorry for yourself. So what if you have to remember that? At least you remember WHO you are. Emily, _our friend_, doesn't have that luxury. You remember that girl who came to us for help. The woman who was able to WALK back into our lives. The woman I loved – the one that married me," he continued his voice cracking with emotion.. "She's gone Lucky. **_Gone_**. Please, try and tell me again how that is a good thing!"

Stunned by Nikolas' words Lucky blinked. "Gone," he whispered. Hot tears he struggled to contain stung his eyes. "I never … I didn't mean to—"

"To what?" Nikolas cut him off. "To hurt Emily? To lie your friends? To cheat on your wife? To ruin your life?"

His shattered answer was a simple one, "Yeah." It hit him then. _Rock bottom_. Lucky thought he experienced it that night two weeks ago. The night he saw Emily laid out on the street bleeding because of him. And later facing the anger and disappointment in everyone's eyes. In Elizabeth's eyes. But, no, _this_ was rock bottom. Standing in his room at rehab envying his friend because she could do the one thing he couldn't – _forget_.


	5. Chapter 3

**NOTE**: Loke going to steal my brain. How cool. :o) I wanted to apologize for the lengthy update process, the muses weren't liking me and we had power outages – I lost a good chunk of a section and had to rewrite it. But I really appreciate all your reviews. I'm glad everyone liked the twist and I hope you all continue to enjoy the story. And, as always, breaks are gonna look like this -- !BREAK!

After two days of Quartermaine craziness, the hospital's second biggest patrons, had finally began to settle down. Edward had been the biggest problem, but Patrick learned that Luke's threat of hogtying and muzzling him had reigned the eldest Quartermaine in. At least for now. "Any nausea?" he asked Emily.

They had her up and walking a bit yesterday, but today they were going for distance, he hoped to cover the floor three times before returning her to her room. "Nope," she answered. "But this is more about my legs isn't?"

"Considering your medical history there was some concern," Patrick replied, "but so far you're looking good. And as an added bonus your butt is not hanging out this time," he cracked.

"Gee thanks Doc," she snickered. "Though I have a feeling people wouldn't mind if your butt was showing."

A grinned flashed across his face. "We wouldn't want to start a riot now would we?" he shot back. Patrick had to admit he liked the rapid fire banter he'd shared with Emily over the last few days. He'd gotten a glimpse of her spunk the night of their date and then again in the elevator, but not to this extent. He found her frankness refreshing.

"Riots," she chuckled. "Nice one Patrick. Your ego is astounding."

He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? I'm very good at what I do, and I look good while doing it."

"Extremely good," she agreed and Patrick noticed that she sounded slightly out of breath. They'd finished the second lap and he knew she'd push herself through the third without complaint. "I think you need a rest," he said steering towards the nook on the floor where they kept visitor couches.

"I feel fine," Emily protested.

"Don't you know it's not polite to argue with your doctor? Besides you wouldn't want go messing up my good work now would you?"

"Well when you put it that way, I wouldn't want to ruin your record," she said lowering herself to the plush brown couch.

"Good. I have to run to the lab for some test results," Patrick told her. "I'll be back in ten minutes to walk you back."

"I have to say I'm enjoying the personal touch _Doc_."

"Who knew there was someone better then me at shameless flirting?" Patrick joked.

"Everyone needs a talent," she countered.

From across the floor Lorenzo heard the doctor escorting Emily laugh. He'd been hoping her accident would draw Skye out, but she hadn't come running home. So now that her sister was awake he prayed that Skye would contact Emily somehow. In some traceable fashion so that he could find her and his child. Thinking of his baby made him ache. It also infuriated him. _How dare Skye keep him from their child?_

He watched the doctor brush his hand along Emily's arm before he left her on the couch. She was finally alone. Lorenzo didn't expect to have another opportunity to approach her so he crossed the distance between them with quick, urgent steps.

Her head was back and her eyes closed when he reached her. Her long hair was up in a haphazard ponytail. She was dressed in gray sweats and Lorenzo couldn't picture Skye every looking that causal. Skye was always chic and luminescent. Though they were only sisters by choice and not blood, he had noted one similarity between the two women. A poise they both had that made everything they did seem graceful. Everything that was save leaving him. "Miss Quartermaine." His voice was rough with emotion as he broke her from her reverie.

Lorenzo noticed that she tensed at his greeting even as she opened her eyes. She smiled politely up at him. "Hello."

Her greeting puzzled him. He'd anticipated hostility. Perhaps even hatred but she sat there wary and expectant. "I wanted to speak to you about Skye," he informed her.

"Who?" she asked her dark eyes clouded with confusion.

Lorenzo felt his composure slipping. "Acting like you don't know your own sister won't stop me from looking for her. Or finding her," he warned. His words hung between them and before she could respond another voice filled the air.

"Get away from her," Elizabeth ordered harshly. Her instinct to protect her friend had her stepping between Emily and Alcazar.

"This is a private conversation," he enlightened her coolly.

"Emily doesn't know where Skye is – no one does because of _you_," Elizabeth pressed on.

"Ms. Spencer—"

She cut him off. "This is a _hospital_ Alcazar. A place for people to get better. Not accosted. Emily is recovering from an accident and she doesn't need you pestering her with questions she can't answer. Now I suggest you leave before I call security."

Elizabeth felt the weight of his heated eyes. Anger and frustration came off the man in waves but she didn't waver. "This discussion isn't over," he cautioned before leaving them.

"That was … intense," Emily said as Elizabeth turned to face her. She knew the creamy face was suppose to be familiar to her. She'd overheard Jason speaking to her in the hospital corridor the other day. The brunette had wanted to know if he thought it would be a good time to approach her. Emily had been relieved that Jason advised her to wait. She had already had a arduous visit with Alan and Monica and she hadn't been ready to face another hopeful person.

"I know you probably don't like people telling you what to do, but Em you really need to stay clear of Alcazar. He's dangerous and if Jason found out that he was questioning you about Skye …" she trailed off and Emily got the message loud and clear. Jason didn't like Alcazar. Considering his need to protect her and the extremes she knew he was willing to go she figured that it was better that he didn't know anything about the encounter.

"All right. I'll steer clear of him in the future if you promise not to tell Jason about this."

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied worrying her lip. Jason would want to know – that look was written all over her face.

"He's kind of on a short fuse at the moment," Emily stated.

"Yeah he is," she concurred. He wouldn't like it when he found out and Elizabeth figured he would. But for now she believed as Emily did that it was for the best that he didn't know. "I won't tell him, but you really should let him know if Alcazar approaches you again."

"Deal," Emily agreed. "Even if I knew who this Skye person was," – Alcazar's comment about her _own sister_ rang her in mind – "I wouldn't have told him. That guy was giving off serious creep vibes."

"The Quartermaines haven't mentioned Skye?" Elizabeth queried.

Emily took a moment to search through the few memories she had. "No I don't … Alan started to say something," she confided remembering yesterday's visit, "but Monica hushed him up. I thought they were talking weather and that she didn't want to bore me."

"I could—"

"Please don't," she interrupted. "I have more then enough people telling me about myself at the moment."

"Well," Elizabeth sighed. "The offer is there if you change your mind."

She started to turn away and Emily felt guilt shoot through her for her quick brush off. "Patrick mentioned that you two were the best of friends."

"Yeah we," she paused, "… sorry. I don't know whether or not to say are or were."

"Look, Elizabeth, you think you know me but you don't," Emily stated point blank. "I'm not Emily Quartermaine anymore. I'm not really _anyone_ and I don't know you … … but I'm not apposed to knowing you. Patrick and Jason like you. So as long as you can accept that I can't be her – you know react like her or whatever, then maybe we could try and be friends."

Her offer made Elizabeth beamed, "I would really like that."

!BREAK!

"Carly," Jason sigh, his exasperation clear in his tone, "you can't help me with this." After barging into his penthouse she'd spent that last twenty minutes trying to badger him into talking.

"Of course I can," she countered. Her long blond hair swung as she stepped towards him. "Jase, I'm your _best_ friend. And you've always been there for me when my life's been a mess. In shambles," she said dramatically. "Now it's my turn to be here for you."

"I appreciate that," he told her. "But there's a difference. You wanted to talk things over. I don't."

"Well just brooding alone isn't going to help you," Carly challenged. Frustration added an edge to her blue eyes. With her hands on her hips Jason knew there wouldn't be a chance of getting Carly to stop poking at him. There was only one choice really and that was to talk about his feelings; which was something he _desperate_ to avoid.

"I can't change what happened," he said barely controlling his ire. "I can't undo my actions. Or anybody else's. **I** pushed Sam away. I hurt her and because of that she—" Jason choked on the words. It hurt just thinking about Sam with Ric and saying it was near impossible. "That _can't_ be taken back."

"I know," Carly said. Her voice was filled compassion, but it did little to sooth him. "I know you hate what happened between them Jason. I hate it too, because it hurt you, and I don't like seeing you hurt. You're the best guy I know. You're _MY_ guy and I want to see you happy. And I don't know why," she said with a shake of her head, "but Sam made you happy. You could have that back."

"No," he breathed out harshly. "I can't … I don't know how to forgive her that."

"If it been anyone else could you?" she prodded.

He took a deep breath while he considered. "Probably."

"Then don't let Ric win. You know that's what he wants. He wants to beat you, he always has," Carly reminded him. "Don't let him take away your happiness Jason."

Jason scrubbed his hand over his face. "It's more then that Carly. You know that. And, I can't focus on Sam right now. On fixing things. Emily needs me."

Carly raised her hands in aggravation. "I know you love sister, but Emily would want you to be happy. So if you want to help her _be_ happy."

"How?" he asked in a near yell. "How can I be happy when I can't get past seeing Sam with Ric? How can I be happy when my _sister_," his voice cracked, "looks at me and sees a stranger."

Seeing his pain Carly reached out and embraced Jason. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she repeated holding him tight. "I know this hard for you," she said looking up into his stormy blue eyes. "I know it brings up bad memories for you."

"They're doing it again," he said sadly. "I know they're trying not too, but the Quartermaines are pushing her like they did me. Carly I ran and I'm just afraid that Emily might decided to run further then I did. I could lose her," he whispered his worst fear.

"You won't," she promised. "Jase she already feels comfortable around you, and trust me, I know what it is to be loved by you. No one would ever want to run from that. So you won't lose her."

"Maybe," Jason replied. "But she might not regain her memory Carly. I know how hard it is not to know anyone. To feel like you don't belong anywhere because people are expecting you to be someone else. The pressure of that, the frustration and anger. It's the worst feeling in the world and I **never** wanted Emily to experience that. She's been through enough. She shouldn't have to go through this."

"I know—" Carly stopped unsure what to say. How to make it better. "Didn't you tell me that Patrick said that there wasn't anything physical causing the amnesia? That means it may not be permanent like yours. She could remember," she offered hopefully.

"He did," Jason confirmed. "Once she's feeling up to it they're going to have Lainey talk to her, but right now she doesn't remember Carly. And I have to protect her – from the Quartermaines, from Nikolas, from everyone whose trying to force her into being the Emily they remember. I won't let her face this alone. She's my priority and I need you to respect that."

"I do," she assured him. "I really do Jase. I just worry that you'll be letting your chance at happiness slip by you while you do and I know that Emily, the old one and the new one, wouldn't want you to lose out because of her."

"If I keep my sister, I'm not losing out," he declared.

!BREAK!

Sitting on the bench in the locker room Patrick stared into his open locker. He hadn't had any surgeries today, but his shift had gone from good to feeling dire after visiting April. She was getting worse; deteriorating before his eyes. It hurt to see it, and her wondered how Robin could have dealt with watching someone she loved slowly slip away.

This is why he never got emotionally involved with patients. The risk were too great, but he hadn't been able to stop himself with April. Under normal circumstances she wasn't a person he ever would have met. If they'd bump into each on the street he wouldn't have given her a second glance.

But she had been brought to _his_ ER and he'd been the doctor on call. – a doctor willing to take a chance on a risky surgery. Even now, worn out from the protocol and emotionally weary, Patrick didn't regret his decision. His job was to saves lives. And it didn't matter if people like Miss Sneed didn't see the value in the lives he saved. He took pride in every successfully surgery and did his best to learn from those he couldn't help.

He'd done it all from a distance before and that had made the job easier for him. Lately though, distance was something he was having trouble with and that concerned him. It was one thing to be a doctor, but to become emotionally attached to a patient was another. Then there was his counseling and consoling of Elizabeth. Being a buddy was one thing, but a reliable shoulder was another, but she wasn't the only woman he was doing that for either. There was Robin and Emily.

He was tangled up in their lives – in their problems – in a way that was new to him. In way he promised himself never to caught up in. But the part that troubled him the most was that he didn't seem to mind. _God, I'm going soft_, Patrick thought.

"Hey you feeling all right?" Robin asked as she entered the locker room.

Patrick blinked his muddled thoughts away and looked up at her. "Yeah," he answered. "Just tired."

"I know the feeling," Robin replied sinking down on the bench next to him. Rubbing her neck she informed him, "I just saw April. Her white count is getting low – too low, but her spirits are up."

"Thanks to you."

Robin smiled, "And you," she said looking over at him. "You've been really great with her Patrick. It's nice to see that you can have a bedside manner that doesn't involve your ego."

"Well that's a haphazard compliment if I've ever heard one," he remarked reaching into his locker for a clean shirt.

"It's just nice see and surprising considering," she teased. He knew she was referring to the God-complex she faced when they first met. When he pulled off his old shirt instead of commenting, she continued. "And, I think you're doing a great job with Emily as well. I know that can't be easy with the Quartermaines breathing down your neck."

"They have been an experience," he agreed tugging his NASCAR t-shirt over his head.

"It's just really hard on them. They've been through it before with Jason. I thought they'd learned from that, but," she sighed, "it doesn't appear that they have. They pushed Jason so hard to be the man he was before the accident that he …"

"Went in the complete opposite direction and became a gangster," he offered.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Jason's not a bad person."

"I didn't say he was," Patrick countered. "In fact, he's been the only person who hasn't pushed Emily. I might not like or approve of what he does, but I am able to respect him for that."

Robin nodded, pleased that they weren't going to have to rehash an old argument. "He's been there. I don't think anyone can understand how alone and confusing not knowing anyone, _especially yourself_, can be. And, I think it really helps that you didn't know Emily all that well before the accident. You can just accept and treat who she is now."

Patrick wanted to argue Robin's point. He had known Emily. They went on an eventful date. Hell Sonny Corinthos had threaten him because of that. Still after that night and until the night of the blackout they hadn't said more then a few hellos. But he had gotten to know Emily better then most people realized, he was just able to accept this new Emily because he had no expectations of her.

And to him she seemed similar – she was still honest, spunky, brave and intelligent. Not to mention a looker, which he shouldn't be thinking, Patrick chastised himself. "Does she really seem that different?"

"It's hard to say," Robin answered. "I've known Emily for a long time. I watched her go from gawky teen to an elegant woman, but I wasn't there for all of it either. When she was younger she was more out spoken like she is now. The things she said to and about Carly," she let out a wiry laugh.

"I bet you enjoyed that," he predicted.

"Oh, believe me I did," she confirmed with a grin. "But things changed after fire. When everyone thought that …" Robin trailed off. She wasn't sure how much Patrick knew and explaining a faked death and miraculous return wasn't something she felt up to at the moment. She wanted to finish thanking him for being such a support to April and Emily, and then go home to a quiet dinner and a glass of good red wine.

"Lucky was dead?" Patrick queried. When Robin nodded with surprise he explained that: "Elizabeth filled me in. It's hard to believe that people I know lived through something so sick and twisted. It's a like something out of a bad 80's thriller movie. Almost too ridiculous to believe."

"Tell me about it," Robin said thinking of her own mother and father's return from the dead. "The unbelievable seems to happen on a regular basis here. Anyway," she said shaking the thought from her head, "that's when Emily changed. When they all did really now that I think about it.."

"I would consider it a life changing event myself," Patrick remarked.

"Death always is," Robin stated. "And, this conversation is getting depressing. All I really wanted to say is that I think you're doing a great job with Emily. And with April. They're both really lucky to have you." What she left unsaid was that she also thought Patrick was lucky to have him. They were making him a better doctor and in turn a better person.

!BREAK!

"You were really great with boys," the man continued. Emily kept her arms crossed and her head down while he spoke. The man was Sonny Corinthos and he'd come to speak to her before. The only reason she hadn't kicked him out like she had Nikolas was because she knew he was a friend of Jason. She was trying really hard to give people who Jason and Patrick seemed to deem worthy the benefit of the doubt because they were the only basis she had. Most everyone else who knew her seemed ... off or pushy, if not down right deranged.

She hadn't regretted her attempt with Elizabeth this afternoon. They had chatted for a few more minutes before Patrick came to collect her and it had gone well. Her mistake was to think that it could happen twice in one day.

She should have told Sonny to go away when he knocked, politely, on her door and asked if he could sit with her. If he had barge in, as Nikolas had, she would have said no. But he had asked when so few people had. The polite thing do was agree to the visit. Emily wasn't sure where this ingrained sense of manners came from but she was silently cursing it now.

_I don't want to hear who I was or what you expect me to be. Why can't you and everyone else but Jason get that? _she wondered feeling her patience begin to snap.

Sonny was just like everyone else. Another person who loved and adored Emily Quartermaine, but unlike others they'd been intimately involved. She could understand the attraction, but from what information she'd gathered Sonny broke up with her. It could be considered sweet that he was attempting to stir something in her. Some emotion or memory – anything to connect her to her past.

But it wasn't. It felt like she was attending a lecture about herself and she had enough of that feeling thanks to Edward. At this very moment she didn't care about the past that she couldn't remember. She just wanted to left alone in the present, un-pressured to be herself, _whoever_ that was.

Unable to take it anymore Emily finally cut him off. "Wait, just wait a minute," she seethed. "Back when I could remember you – when I was _supposedly_ in love with you – you ended things. Right? At least that's what they tell me." He started to protest but she steamrolled over him. "You gave up the right to be concerned about me then," she pointed out, "and now that I can't remember anything you want to what?" Emily challenged. "_Save me from myself_? Thanks but no thanks. I might have listened to you then but I certainly have no interest in your opinion now."


	6. Chapter 4

Once again, thank you all for your reviews. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story. And, as always, breaks are gonna look like this -- !BREAK!

_Two Days Later_

The late summer night air was warm and smelled of ebbing exhaust. The moon hung heavy in the sky as the city of Port Charles settled into evening. As people went about their normal activities Emily studied the landscape that was slowly becoming familiar from the hospital roof.

Below her the city sprawled and she looked out into it for some glimmer of recognition. This attempt was a fruitless as her previous visits to the roof for solitude. She had yet to remember anything and the muffled sounds of life did little to soothe the tension that had taken a vicious hold over her. It wasn't just the weight of expectation she felt from most everyone claiming bonds to her, but the empty feeling she awoke with – she was hollow.

That was the only way Emily could think to describe it. Not that she shared that particular thought with anyone. Explaining to someone how you were half a person, less then really, especially when they remembered the person you were and wanted them back – it made her ache.

It also made her mad. Which is why she had snapped at Sonny. Not that she apologized to him for it or allowed him to. Instead she asked Jason to keep him away. Her brother – thinking of him so still surprised and pleased her – had promised he would, and she hadn't received another visit from the charismatic man. Too bad Nikolas didn't listen as well.

The chance of running into him or anyone from her previous life had her dreading leaving hospital. Not that she wasn't ready to get out of the stale environment of the hospital. Like it or not though it was the only one she knew. There was a comfort in that. In knowing something amongst the chaos.

"I thought I find out here," Patrick said in way of greeting as he joined her on the rooftop.

"A little late for poking and prodding," Emily commented as he came to stand beside her.

He flashed one of his killer smiles. "What can I say? You're my favorite patient."

His declaration made her laugh. It was an easy laugh and she had few of those. In fact, she had few easy moments of any kind since waking up. Those she managed to have tended to around Patrick or Jason. And she knew it was because of their acceptance of her. Of how she was, because Emily couldn't say that she knew who she was.

If she didn't have them to help relieve the growing knots of emotions tightening inside she didn't know where she'd be. "So you will miss me," she teased knocking her shoulder playfully against his.

"I'm sure your weekly check-ups will cure me of that quickly," he said, falling into their pattern of easy banter and flirting.

"Fun-NY," she stretched the word.

"I thought so," Patrick replied. He turned and rested his hip against the ledge of the building. Emily continued her study of the skyline while he considered her. It was easier for him to read her now then before the accident. Her ways had been quiet, a shield she used to keep people from digging further then she wanted. He didn't see much difference between the Emily Quartermaine that stood beside now and the woman he had started to know.

She was just unedited. And a _tad_ more flirty. Patrick didn't mind either attribute. He enjoyed the way Emily thought and expressed herself. He enjoyed her. That was beginning to concern him, but he didn't know how to take a step back at this point. Not with Nikolas and the Quartermaines breathing down her neck. Still he couldn't help but think Emily being discharged was for the best.

There would be no more random visits by her room or walks around the floor. The likelihood of bumming into her outside the hospital was slim since he practically lived there. There would be no more flirting that would leaving him wondering and wanting. That was a good thing Patrick knew and yet he also knew that he would miss it. "I know that face," he said breaking the silence between them. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing, at least nothing you can do anything about," she replied a resigned look on her face.

"Try me," Patrick cajoled.

Sighing, Emily hunched and rested her elbows on the ledge. She clasped her hands so she could rest her chin on them. "I have no idea what life is like outside these walls Patrick. And if that wasn't bad enough there is this life I don't remember just waiting there for me. I could pick it up. I know the Quartermaines would prefer that I did – that I try, but I don't know how. I don't know how to walk into a life I don't remember and start in the middle of it."

"It's not that I'm fond of lousy décor or the food, but I'm … I'm apprehensive about leaving the hospital. I mean half of her, _MY_," she stressed, reminding herself, "family is certifiable. They care – they've made that clear, _loudly_. But I really don't know how she dealt with them. Heart and soul of the Quartermaines," a slight tinge of bitterness soaked her words. "Savoir of the family, mediator, fixer of problems, and confidante. She's a freggin' saint in their eyes."

A shiver passed along her spine. "I may not know what my favorite color is or what I like on my sundae, but I'm certain that **I** am no saint. I've been thinking," Emily hesitated, to confide or not? She felt Patrick's hazel eyes on hers. Waiting, but not with a pressured gaze so many had leveled at her. "I might leave," she whispered. "No note, no warnings. I'd just walk out of the hospital and never look back."

Instead of challenging her like she expected he merely asked, "What's stopping you?"

"Everything," Emily admitted straightening herself. "Everything I don't know about myself, everything I know about her. Patrick I don't think I can go out into the wide world and face it alone, with no past. What kind of future could I have if I did that? I mean I know how to do things – I have knowledge of languages and medicine, I can work a remote control but the bigger picture is all but blank."

"It would be easier to leave," he remarked.

"No it wouldn't," she insisted.

"Sure it would Emily. You leave and there are no reminders of who people want you to be," he pointed out. Patrick gave her a moment to absorbed that notion before he continued. "No expectations. You can do or say anything you want and there won't be anyone there to second guess you, or make you second guess yourself. _No comparisons_. You'd just be you."

"Whoever that is," she said quietly. Learning about everyone else was easy, but the thought of discovering who was intimidated her like nothing else. What if she didn't like who she turned out to be? What if no one liked her?

As if reading her thoughts Patrick began to speak: "Well, let's see shall we? You're resilient. You woke up with no past, no sense of who you are and instead of lashing out in anger you've tried to be understanding. That hasn't stopped you from speaking your mind though. You'll listen, but when someone ticks you off you let them know it. You don't pull your punches and there is nothing wrong with that."

"Except for the fact that _she_ would," Emily retorted.

"But _you_ are not her," he stated. "You might not ever be the Emily Quartermaine everyone wants you to be. Look, I liked her. She was sweet and brave but the things that made her Emily – her experiences and memories – they're lost to you. _You_ might never remember them, so _you_ can't be her, no matter much other people might want it. Or even you might want it. You're not that girl. You're a new Emily. This wise-cracking, tenderhearted, hardheaded woman. And like her. Given a chance to accept what's happening I know everyone else will like her too."

His words, the way he saw her astounded and touched Emily. He saw _her_, when no else had, not even Jason, Patrick saw her. Not just a shadow of this other person who was lacking. In his eyes she wasn't a broken girl in need of fixing, she just was. Hearing that made her breath catch and filled her heart with something she couldn't quite place. All Emily knew was that for the first time since she woke up she felt like she could be a whole person, memories or no. The feeling was so overwhelming, so bright with the colors of happiness that she felt giddy.

It was a new and heady experience.

Without thinking or giving Patrick any clue as her actions Emily leaned up on tip-toes and captured his lips with her own. It was _her_ first kiss and she found the odd combination of softness and firmness there. She felt her blood heat, urging her forward. Wanting more.

She would have gone for it to, but Patrick placed his wide hands on her shoulders and separated them. Emily could read the sharp look of passion in his eyes, but it wasn't the only thing she saw there. "Em—"

"I know, I know," she cut off his attempt to explain why kissing him wasn't a good thing. "You don't do relationships, and I'm not sure I'm equipped for one, but I like you too Patrick Drake."

Patrick didn't respond to her declaration. Instead he took a step back from her and watched with his heart jack-hammering while she crossed the roof to the door and then disappeared into the hospital. He knew he was in trouble. Deeper then any he'd skimmed the surface with when he'd been with Robin. "I'm won't — I'm not falling for Emily Quartermaine," he muttered his denial into the night air.

!BREAK!

_The Next Day_

Her room had changed over the years. It had gone from a young girl's room housing a pet spider to a teenager's room that had been plastered with photographs ranging from professional shots of Brenda to haphazard pictures with friends, and had finally transformed into a woman's room when Emily returned home. Loud bright colors were replaced by softer tones, but the warmth of the room that had made it distinctively Emily's was still there.

"Should we pack her journal?" Alan asked. He stood at the end of their daughter's bed. Clothes and personal effects were laid out over it as they struggled with what to pack for her. After the tense encounters at the hospital it was decided that Emily, should she chose, would go stay with Jason.

The look of relief on her daughter's face when she was given the option stung. It wasn't personal Monica reminded herself. Emily just felt more comfortable around Jason and if she was staying with him she wouldn't have the expectant eyes of every Quartermaine on her. Still, she wanted Emily in her house, but more then that, she wanted Emily to want to be here.

"I don't know," Monica replied tracing her hand over a picture of Emily, AJ, and Jason. There were too few pictures of her children together. "I'd like to send this," she said lifting the framed photograph, "but I don't want to seem like we're pushing her."

"We can't not push her either Monica. I know you're worried that we might lose her the way we lost Jason. I have that fear as well," he told her. "But she has to know that we love her and that she has a family. We need to try – we need to be there, so she knows that."

"I think we've made that clear already," Monica remarked returning the picture to its home. There were others they were including, ones without AJ or Skye in them. There were some things that neither she nor Alan felt up to explaining. "And, I know Alan, I do," she swore. "I want her to know she can come to us, but I'm so afraid of history repeating itself. I don't want to pressure her, but I don't know how not too either because I want _my_ daughter back."

"Then we should send the journal. Even if she doesn't read it, maybe she'll write in it. Maybe it will help. Maybe it will bring Emily back to us," he said passionately tucking the slim leather journal into the suitcase pocket.

Monica walked up behind him and rubbed her hand along his back. "I hope it does," she said and surveyed the clothes on the bed. With summer waning they chose a host of fall clothes. Items that could be layered for warmth and style. "I'll get this packed."

Her husband nodded but didn't move from his spot. He didn't move the entire time she slowly lifted, folded and placed the clothing lovingly into the waiting suitcase. When the task was finally done Monica closed the case and snapped it shut.

"We just got her back," Alan sighed. He lowered himself to the bed with the weight of loss and worry pressing against his heart.

"I know," Monica said softly. She ran a hand over his hair, down his neck and let it rest on his shoulder. "She's always come back though Alan. Remember that. Our girl has always found her way back home, back to us."

That's how Jason found them a few minutes later. The silence was heavy as he entered his sister's room at the Quartermaines. He knocked on the door frame to gain their attention. Alan and Monica turned in unison with similar expressions on their tired faces. _His parents_, he thought. It had taken him years to think of them like that. Even now claiming Alan has his father was strange feeling, but for the first time he truly understood what they went through when he woke without his memory. Understanding that helped him accept what he couldn't before – the pressure and the frustration, the need they had for him.

Nothing could be taken back. They pushed and he left and this is were their lives had led. There was, however, one thing he could offer them. Seeing them now, his words weren't just for them but for himself as well. "I didn't understand before. What you went through after the accident. Looking at me and hoping that I would remember you, even just a little bit. I get it now," Jason said looking directly at Alan because he knew is father needed words more then Monica.

"We pushed too hard," Alan stated. "Wanted too much even though medically there wasn't a chance you'd remember us."

"It's different this time though," Monica reminded them, hope shimmering in her blue eyes. "Emily could remember. I know we can't force it to happen, but it could. And we'll be different this time," she said taking Alan's hand. "We already are."

"You'll take good care of her?" Alan asked even though he already knew the answer.

!BREAK!

"I really didn't need a babysitter," Emily stated. Her focus wasn't on Elizabeth, the keeper Jason insisted on when he got called away on _business_, but on the humongous suitcase that sat in the middle of bed. The room itself was generic like the hospital with cool blue walls and steel colored linens. It was a functional room, but not uncomfortable. And she much preferred it to the flowery yellow room that Jason had explained belonged to friend and the pale lavender room which he said was hers.

Knowing that she always had a room at Jason's pleased her, but she wasn't ready to stay in any room that had meaning to her before the accident. She want as much as a clean slate as she could get so she selected the small, sparsely furnished guest room off the kitchen.

"I'm not here to baby sit you Emily."

Her face quirked. "Then what would you call it?" she asked opening up the suitcase.

"Welcome wagon," Elizabeth offered. She saw Emily stiffen but it wasn't her remark that caused it. Sitting on top of a brimming pile of clothes within the suitcase was a number of pictures of Emily with the family. Elizabeth silently cursed the Quartermaines. She knew they were trying to help, but blindsiding Emily was going to do more harm then good. "Em—"

"They're persistent. I'll give them that," she said her voice harsh. Emily collected the pictures and turned to the nightstand. She tossed them in the bottom drawer and slammed it closed. Elizabeth watched as Emily reached into the suitcase and pulled out a bottle of lotion. She flicked the lid open with barely controlled violence and sniffed. "Strawberry," she said with distaste. "Too sweet," and with that she chucked it into the trashcan. "It's not ME," she stated emphatically.

Emily's brown eyes met her gaze with fire and challenge in them. Elizabeth wasn't sure what to say to ease the tension in the room. Emily had started using strawberry lotion after Nikolas bought it for her birthday years ago. She remembered that Emily hadn't been fond of the sweetness at first but wore it because it was from Nikolas. It wasn't until later that she came to like it for herself. Considering how Emily felt about Nikolas now, Elizabeth didn't think telling her that would do any good.

Tastes changed, Elizabeth thought, and went with that notion. Instead of answering Emily's challenge she pulled a shirt from suitcase. "What about this?" she asked. "Do you like it? Do you like any of them?" she inquired with a sweep of her hand over the case.

"Why?" Emily asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth pulled the shirt in her hands tight, holding it up to Emily. "I never liked this one," she informed her before throwing the shirt into the garbage.

Emily blinked at her and then let out a hoot of laughter. She reached into the suitcase herself and pulled out a soft pink blouse. She eyed it. The cut was fine but the color didn't thrill her. "Not for me," she declared tossing it over her shoulder.

A grin spread across Elizabeth's face and it matched the on Emily's. "How about we go through this stuff. You keep what you like, we'll get rid of the rest and then go shopping."

It sounded like a wonderful idea. New things. Things _she_ picked out herself. but Emily hesitated. "What if it's something sentimental?" she asked. "You know to _her_."

"I'll let you know," Elizabeth replied. The fact the Emily cared about that gave her hope. It was another shade of the girl she knew shining through. She might never be that girl again, Elizabeth knew, but this new person was blend of her and something else. And she was becoming fond of the that else. "If it is I'll take it, otherwise, it gets tossed. Sound good?"

"Perfect actually," she answered. They started to digging clothes out of the monster suitcase. "Hey Elizabeth?"

"Hmm?" she sounded as she separated tops from bottoms.

Emily waited until she looked up and their eyes met. "Thanks."

!BREAK!

"I'll stop by after my surgery tomorrow," Patrick promised April.

"And, I'll look forward to it," she said. Though her voice was weak her smile was broad. "Good luck," she offered.

"Thanks," he grinned. With a wave he exited her room and head towards the locker room. It had been another long day at the hospital and all Patrick wanted was quick shower and then something to eat. The fact that he might spend the rest of the night battling to keep it down was becoming less of a worry as his body was finally adjusting to the protocol. He was still struggling with the nausea, but he was getting better at keeping things down.

It was a small improvement, but one he was grateful to claim.

Pushing into the locker room Patrick yawned. He really didn't mind the long hours. It was apart of being a doctor. And his job was as much a part of him as his dimples. Without medicine he wasn't sure who he'd be. That thought led to Emily. She had been released this morning and he wondered how she was adjusting to life outside the hospital. "Not going there," he reminded himself with a growl as he pulled his scrubs over his head.

With quick and practiced movements he buttoned up his shirt and traded the papery-feeling pants for a pair of his favorite black jeans. He was closing up his locker when he heard his father's voice. "Good you're still here," Noah greeted him jovially. His father's face was withered but still handsome. At least I'll age well, Patrick thought, while suppressing a groan.

"Dad," he smiled tightly. Patrick wasn't sure how to explain his relationship with his father. It was tense on a good day, but even though they pushed each other's buttons there was still a connection between them. He loved his father, it just depended on the day if he liked him.

"I was hoping we could have dinner," Noah said ignoring his son's attitude. "And if a free meal with your old man isn't enticing enough I thought we could discuss the report Goel, Muzumdar and Dance put out on atlantoaxial spondyloposis."

"Tempting," Patrick replied, "but no thanks."

"Come on son," Noah insisted. "A good meal. A _free_ one, from the Metro Court if you like, and some healthy debate."

Patrick eyed Noah with skepticism. Their debates were lively, but that was because they disagreed on just about everything. Including their reasons for wanting to be surgeons. Though it wasn't top on his list he did like making a difference, especially when it challenged him. His father would never understand that, couldn't really after his mother. "If we can skip the debate and make it Tai food, you got yourself a deal," he yielded.


	7. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Sorry about the long update process guys. I know I'm a horrible fan fiction writer, but hopefully you all will forgive me. As always breaks with look like this -- !BREAK!

The last few days had been a blur for Patrick. After the first successful dinner with his father – and he considered it a success because they only argued 90 percent of the time – he'd gone into work the next day with exhilaration. He hadn't felt so good in weeks. He flirted with Epiphany, crossed swords with Robin and performed a textbook surgery. In essence he was flying high.

At least he was until he went to visit April.

He'd found Robin alone in April's room crying. His good mood crashed as Robin tearfully informed him that April died. Patrick knew he should have expected it. He hadn't cured April of AIDS, he only managed to prolong her life expectancy, and yet he stood there floored. He was supposed to see her that day. Had _promised_ to. Numb with grief he just stood there and allowed Robin to hold him.

That's when everything went out of focus. He could hazily remember helping to plan a small memorial service for April. But none of it felt real. He'd sat in the hospital chapel this morning mourning a girl he barely knew, missing her like he hadn't missed anyone in a long time. _This why you don't get involved_, he scolded himself at the end of the service. He had avoided the cavernous ache that loss left behind for so long and now he was feeling it again it felt like it was swallowing him whole.

Angry at himself and the situation he'd fled the hospital looking for solitude. He'd walked blindly into the park and found the bustling sounds of life comforting. Patrick picked himself out a lonely bench where he sat and he stewed.

No more getting involved in people's lives, Patrick promised himself. He _had_ to maintain distance, and those people he let get too close to, had to be pushed away. From now on self-preservation was key.

"You're looking pretty serious." Patrick looked up at the voice and groaned internally. Standing before him with a concerned smile on her face was one of his biggest problems – Emily Quartermaine. She had invaded his thoughts even before her accident, and even more so after. There was _something_ about her that nagged at him. That made him want to dig deeper into her. To know her and be with her.

Thinking thoughts like those caused alarms to ring. _Danger Will Robinson_ practically glowed like a neon sign in his head. He'd ignored it until now, but no longer. It was time to get back to who he'd been. "It's nothing," he told her standing.

"You expect me to believe that?" she challenged.

"Look Emily I don't want to get into this with you. Or anyone for that matter," he said trying to side step her.

Annoyance rated from Patrick. His gaze was cold and dispassionate on her, but Emily refused to back down. It was clear that Patrick was upset, and seeing how he was one of the few people she considered a real friend, she wanted to help him. Like he had helped her. "You listened to me," she said placing her hand on his arm so he wouldn't walk away. "It's my turn now. I'll even treat," Emily informed him, nodding towards the snow cone vendor.

Patrick wanted to say no. To tell her to leave him alone, but in all honesty he didn't want to be alone and miserable. Though it went against every promise he just made to himself he didn't put up a fight. He simply allowed Emily to drag him towards the cart.

Though there was no one in line the man started to build a cone when he saw them coming. He had a purple cone ready when they reached the cart and offered it to Emily with wide smile. "Here you go. And for you?" he asked him not seeing the hesitation in Emily's eyes as she took the cone.

"Would you like something else?" Patrick asked with concern for her overshadowing his melancholy.

"I …" he saw something flicker in her eyes. "No," she answered. "This good, he'll have a grape as well," she told the vendor. Patrick didn't protest her selection though he did try to pay for the cones. "My treat," she insisted and fished out the money.

Once they both had their cones they headed back towards the bench that Emily had found him on. "What happened back there?" Patrick inquired.

She waited until they were settled on the bench before she answered. "I had this … flash." Her voice was dull, almost as if she was in shock, but her eyes were bright swirling with excitement and confusion. "That's the best way to describe it. _Purple lips_." She said it almost reverently, with a grin spreading across her face.

Confused Patrick asked, "What?"

"I'm not sure," she laughed nervously. "I just kind of _knew_ that grape was my favorite, and not just because it tastes good." To prove her point she took a quick bite and Emily found that her taste buds did in fact approve of the sweet taste. "I like having purple lips," she revealed. "Did you know that about me—I mean her? Us," she finished lamely.

"No. No I didn't, but I think I'll like you with purple lips," Patrick replied, his desperation turning to hope. Emily was remembering.

!BREAK!

"Patrick," Lainey smiled up at him. She'd just gotten back from a session with Sonny and she was surprised to find him waiting outside her office. Or maybe not, she thought, remembering that April had passed away. Her colleagues often sought out her services after a loss of a patient.

"Do you have few minutes?" he asked.

Lainey glanced down at her watch. She had another patient coming in an half-hour and meant to use the time she had to catch up on paperwork. Meeting Patrick's gaze again she decided the paperwork could wait. "Yeah, I do," she answered unlocking her office door. As she swung it open she informed him, "I was sorry to hear about April."

"Thanks," Patrick replied stepping through the doorway, "but that's not why I'm here."

"No?" Lainey said under her breath. If not April, then what? Piqued by curiosity she asked, "Then why are you here?"

"I bumped into Emily, Emily Quartmaine," he clarified and Lainey nodded at him to continue, "at the park today. She had what she termed a 'flash' of memory. Before you get ahead of yourself it was just a little thing."

It took Lainey a second to switch gears. Patrick wasn't coming to see her about himself, but a patient. Her sessions with Emily had mostly dealt with adjusting to her life without memories. Emily had shied away from discussing a way to try and recover her memories. She hadn't want to push, at least not yet. The fact that Emily remembered something, even a trivial detail, was a start. "What did she remember?"

"That she likes purple lips."

"Excuse me?" Lainey questioned sure she misheard him.

"She likes having purple lips. You know from eating a grape snow cone?"

"Oh," she said for a lack of anything else. "Was there anything else?"

"No," Patrick answered.

Reaching for her pad Lainey started to make a few notes for herself. "And how did she take remembering?"

A look of serious concentration settled on Patrick's face. "She was a little shocked, but pleased. She also wanted to know if I knew that about her. I think she was disappointed that I didn't."

"She never mentioned it to me before the accident either," Lainey commented. "It seems kind of …"

"Childish," Patrick supplied.

"Kind of," she agreed. "But that's a good. Having any flash of memory is progress. It doesn't surprise me that one of the senses was involved. They can be some of the strongest memories we carry. It's possible we'll be able to use them to trigger other memories."

"I thought you hadn't advanced to that stage yet."

"No we haven't. Mostly because Emily seems hesitant to go there, but this memory could be just the motivation she needs to try."

"That's a good thing then," Patrick said, but even he heard doubt in his voice. Emily remembering _was_ a good thing, but there was a part of him that wanted to hold onto new Emily. That alone didn't make any sense to him. He was set on putting distance between himself and other people, but the possibility of losing this new Emily didn't sit well with him. And it wasn't has if he hadn't liked the old Emily. He could still recall the gut-wrenching kiss he shared with her but this new Emily had touched _something_ within him. "What was that?" Patrick asked coming out of his thoughts.

"I said you seem unsure about Emily remembering."

"I'm not," he assured Lainey. "I want Emily to remember. It will make things easier on her."

"Huh."

"Huh? That's what you have to offer?" She didn't respond, she merely stared him down with her appraising eye. "I don't need you to give me that shrink look Lainey. There is no huh." Patrick waited a beat hoping that she would fill it. "Hell," he muttered. "Fine! There is a huh. Are you happy? I'll miss her – that easy, flirty Emily. I've grown fond of her, _okay_? Which is why it's better that she remembers. That Emily had no interest in me and it would be better for me if we could get back to that, because I don't want any serious attachments."

"You don't?"

"Ugh," Patrick sounded, throwing his hands up in aggravation. "I'm not your patient Lainey. I don't need you to answer everything I say with a question."

"Okay, fine. Let me point something out to you then," Lainey said tossing her pad onto her desk. "Caring about people, having attachments, is what life is all about Patrick. You shouldn't avoid connections because you're afraid of loss."

"This isn't about April."

"I think it is. I think it's about April. Or your father or anyone else you've lost in your life. You try not to care because when you do, you go all the way Patrick. _That_ scares you and I think that's why you ended things with Robin. You felt yourself going all the way and backed pedaled as fast as you could. You played the let's be friends card. She let you get away with it, but for whatever reason you can't do that with Emily. So you want her to remember so she'll do it for you."

"Nice analysis Doctor Winters," Patrick seethed, "but if you want to know the truth I don't know what the hell I want." That said, he stormed out of her office.

!BREAK!

Exhilaration. After the shock, and yes, fear passed that's what Emily had been left with – a feeling of exhilaration. She had remembered something. It was a small, nonsense something, but she _had_ remembered. For the first time since she woke up she had hope. This state of flux, of not knowing wouldn't be permanent. She could remember. Even if she didn't remember every little detail she was determined to learn enough to integrate who she'd been with who she was now. She might never be the Emily everyone wanted, but she _would_ be Emily Quartermaine again.

A weight was lifted off her shoulders when that uncertainty went away. As glad as she was that Patrick was there with her when she had her flash, Emily couldn't wait to get back to the penthouse to tell Jason. He'd been so wonderful to her and she knew the news would please him. And maybe, just maybe, he knew the significance of purple lips.

Grinning from ear to ear she entered the penthouse. Emily saw Jason standing in front of the wide window; he was staring out at the city. She was about to call out his name when she saw his reflection next to large crack in the window. She had asked him about the crack and he'd gotten his serious look. It was reminder. That's what he told her and Emily hadn't pressed.

She was getting use to Jason's serious look. It was the one she saw most often. But there were undertones to the look for anyone who could see them. There was the serious business look. She knew not to push there. Jason had made it clear, his business was not up for discussion, and frankly Emily saw no need to broach the topic. Whatever Jason did for business he was good to her, _loved _her. You couldn't ask more of a brother. So she didn't.

She'd also seen his serious Sam face. There was a sadness that went with it. Longing mixed with anger. She had pressed there because it was obvious that Jason was hurting. He hadn't said much on the subject. Jason wasn't much of a talker, but she gleaned enough from their brief discussions and Elizabeth about the situation. Jason loved Sam but pushed her away because he was afraid of her getting hurt. Sam acted out in the worse way possible way according to Elizabeth, by sleeping with some guy named Ric Lansing, who Jason absolutely hated.

She didn't know Ric, but Jason's pain was enough to make Emily hate him. While she hadn't said anything to Jason, Emily found herself resenting Sam as well. Yes, the love of her life was pushing her away, but Emily couldn't understand how she allowed herself to spiral so out of control. She'd woken up with no memory, no sense of self and had managed to keep it together. Surely Sam could have done the same and spared Jason the pain he was in.

There were other serious looks as well. One reserved for her, for Sonny's boys, Sonny himself and Carly. The look she saw in the reflection was different. It was new. That concerned Emily. The lighter moments had been few, but that made them all the more special. She had so been looking forward to putting a smile on Jason's face – a rarer treat. She couldn't now. Something was wrong and she needed to help her brother. "Hey Jase," she greeted closing the door.

He turned and Emily could see genuine pleasure in his eyes. He was happy too see her. "How was walk?" he asked.

"Good. Really good," she answered. The urge to tell him, to switch the topic – to get his mind off his trouble – was alluring. _Haven't you talked about yourself enough today?_ she wondered. _Patrick had clearly been upset, but you didn't listen did you? No, you let him change the topic and make it all about you. Not this time._

"I'm glad," Jason replied. "I have some business," he told her crossing the room.

"Really?" Emily questioned. "Or do you just want to be alone to brood?"

Jason stopped and stared at her. Emily could almost hear him reminding himself that she wasn't the same girl he knew. "I do need some time to think," he finally stated.

"Do you always have to think alone? Couldn't you use a sounding board? Or just a sympathetic ear. You can confide in me Jason," she said in earnest. "I really wish you would."

"It's complicated," he sighed.

"What isn't?" Emily countered. "You don't have to tell me Jason, but if you want to … I'm here."

Those words were so familiar to Jason. So reminiscent of the last time he'd spoken to his sister – the old Emily. "_I'm here Jason. Whatever you need I'm here for you."_ Shortly after she said those words she walked out of his apartment and everything turned upside down. He hadn't been ready to confide in her then, and he wasn't exactly ready to now, but he put it off before. Jason knew he could never have that moment back. However, he could learn from it. "Elizabeth is pregnant."

"Okay," she said confusion crossing her face. "That's great … right?"

"Yes," he answered. Whether he was the father or not, the baby was a good a thing.

"So how is that complicated?" Emily inquired.

"I could be the father."

"Could be?" she squeaked. "How … that's … you're right. It's complicated." Emily paused a moment to really absorb the news. "If I had my memory I'd be freaking out about now wouldn't I?"

"Maybe," he conceded. "She'd be supportive, but worried about all of us. About Elizabeth's marriage and my relationship with Sam."

"Well it could be a sticky situation when you put it like that, especially since Elizabeth isn't sure whose baby it is … When will you be able to find out?" Emily wanted to know.

"Not for a couple of weeks."

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "That's a wait. An uneasy one at that. Jason do you want to be a father? In general I mean."

"I planned on it," he told her. "Someday, with Sam."

"Do you want to be _this_ baby's father?" Emily queried. "I've seen you with Elizabeth and it's obvious that you're great friends. And I know you, you'd make a great father. You guys would be great parents." She stopped her rambling, "I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I?"

A barely there smile touched Jason's lips. "So am I. I don't know if I'm the father, or even if I want to be, but if it turns out I am …"

"Then you'll be its father," she finished for him. Jason nodded and Emily took a deep breath and exhaled. "On the bright side you and Elizabeth will have roughly nine months to figure out the details."


	8. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: A timely update, how about that? I wanted to get another chapter posted before Christmas, because I don't expect to post again before the new year. Thank you all for the reviews to the last chapter. I have to say that I am extremely thrilled by everyone's response to purple lips. I started watching the show around the time Emily first came on and her friendship with Lucky has always been one of my favorite things. It's heartening to know that others feel the same way. As always breaks are going to look like this -- !BREAK!

His plan not to care wasn't working. Yesterday there had been Emily – _not thinking about her_, he reminded himself and focused on Elizabeth. She'd pulled him aside after rounds to speak privately. Patrick had been so close to blowing her off. The words had formed in his mind, but then he saw the anxiety in her eyes and how her whole body was tense. He knew then that something was wrong. _Really wrong_. How could he say no to the woman who reached out to him? The woman who had forced him outside himself when he'd first been exposed.

Was saving himself really more important then being there for Elizabeth? Yesterday after his conversation with Lainey he was more determined then ever to back off of everyone. To pull into himself. He needed to stop caring so much – _feeling_ so much. Looking at her Patrick didn't know how he could tell Elizabeth that. How could he blow her off when she looked so unsettled?

He was damming himself, Patrick knew that the moment he asked Elizabeth what was wrong. _All the way_. He lived his life on the edge in every other way. He took chances. Some worked and others didn't and he dealt with the consequences.

Patrick wasn't sure what the consequences of friendship would be, but it was time to find out. So he listened while Elizabeth told him that she was pregnant. He picked up on the embarrassment she felt when she said that she wasn't sure who the father was – Lucky or Jason.

She stood there emotionally naked and poured out her heart out to him. "I love my husband Patrick, but there was a time when I was deeply in love with Jason. Our timing was always off. It still is really. We're friends, but if he's the father of my child … I have to think about Cam. Jason's life is dangerous and Lucky," she shook her head sadly, "I can't trust him anymore. He chose drugs and Maxie Jones over _our_ marriage. Over _our_ family. How can I even begin to forgive him when he decided that drugs were more important then being a good father and husband? How can trust his priorities again?"

Though he was baffled that she chose to confided in him he listened to her intently. Not interrupting until she ran out of steam. "So you're saying now that Lucky is clean you can't you forgive him?"

"It would be so easy to write off his behavior to the drugs. To forgive and forget his attitude and suspicions. I want my old life back Patrick," she said with a painful longing. "I want to be happy again in my marriage to the man I've always loved." Her voiced turned hard as she continued obviously speaking the words out loud as she thought them. "But the image of him in bed with Maxie – in OUR home with her. Thinking clearly or not, he knew that was _wrong _Patrick, and he did it anyhow. I don't know how to forgive that or get over it. If the baby is his I guess I would try. Though if I can't learn to trust Lucky again it won't work and I won't put my children in that situation. I don't want them to ever feel like they weren't enough for their father."

"And if the baby is Jason's? Would you try with him?" Patrick prodded.

"I …" Elizabeth faltered. At one time she had wanted to try with Jason. That time seemed like a lifetime ago, but the connection she felt to Jason was so deep, so important that even after everything they went through it still remained. It was ingrained in her. Jason was there. No matter what she could rely on his friendship.

_Friendship_. They had stalled there, Elizabeth thought. Unable to move forward because she hadn't been able to handle Jason's life. She wasn't a mother then. She had no responsibilities except to herself and she hadn't been able to accept his life. How could she possibly accept it now? She had to protect Cameron. To keep him safe, and yet, she hadn't been able to manage that with Lucky. Her safe, happy world had crashed in around her.

It hadn't exactly been safe either. Everyday Lucky walked out the door with the possibility of not coming back, the same as Jason. Lucky just happened to be on the right side of the law.

There was a difference there of course, but Jason was more then his job. He was understanding, patient, and supportive. Someone she could always turn to no matter what had happened between them. She loved him for that and had really since that night at Jake's. He stopped her making the biggest mistake of her life that night. He stopped her from reverting back to Lizzie Webber the unhappy girl she'd been when she first arrived in Port Charles. She never wanted to be that girl again, but the appeal of her been great that night. That girl hadn't been loved by Lucky Spencer – been transformed by him. She wouldn't have to feel the grief of his loss, the utter hollowness that engulfed her and threatened to swallow her whole.

Instead of losing herself in Lizzie Webber or in her grief she found Jason, or rather he found her. He reached her when no one else could. Helped her when she thought she'd been beyond it. It was because of Jason that she held onto to who she was and that bonded her to him. It was a permanent tie. One of the most important of her life.

She loved Jason as friend, but at one time she wanted something more. Could she really go back to that? It seemed impossible because Elizabeth didn't know how to stop being in loving Lucky. He was so much apart of her. At times it almost seemed like they weren't complete people without each other. Lucky and Elizabeth, never one without the other. Joined. Connected. A permanent lock.

Tears stung her eyes because as much as she wanted it Elizabeth knew they could never be that way again. The betrayal had been too great … and, yet she loved him still.

Elizabeth realized she was thinking in circles and Patrick was still standing there before her. He was waiting patiently for her answer – a answer she didn't have. So she went with what she knew. "Jason is still in love with Sam and foolishly I'm in love with my husband. I know Jason would support me, but I'm not looking for him to be anything but my friend. If the baby turns out to be his I just want him to be a good father."

Once the words came stumbling out of her mouth she wondered if that was the only way it could be. Patrick, however, wasn't the person who answer that for her.

!BREAK!

"I asked Jason about it, purple lips, that is, this morning," Emily informed Lainey. She had waited towards the end of the session to let the older woman know that she had remembered something. Emily wasn't exactly sure what she filled the first part of the session with. For all knew she had talked nonsense.

She wanted to tell Lainey about the memory, to discuss what it meant, but she hadn't wanted to turn this session into the beginning of actively searching for other memories. With everything going on she needed a few days for things to settle down before moving forward. So she waited and now her session time was ticking down. Needing to share the thoughts that had been swimming in her mind all morning she spoke quickly. "Jason told me that when he got to know me again after his accident that my favorite candy was basically anything grape. Especially pixie sticks. I guess I always liked my sugar," she said sheepishly. "He knew I liked the flavor, but he didn't know about purple lips."

"I thought he would," she continued. "I really thought if anyone would know it would be Jason. It's almost as if," she paused not sure how to explain what she meant. Sighing, Emily gave up trying to put her feelings into words and told Lainey, "I was disappointed that he didn't know."

"No one can know everything about another person Emily," Lainey replied. "We all keep certain things to ourselves. Stuff that is just ours. There isn't anything wrong with that."

"I know. It's just that it's my _first_ memory. I wanted to be able to share it with someone. Someone who knew what it meant. I know it seems silly, but somehow I know that it is special. That it's important," she ended vehemently.

"Have you asked your parents or Elizabeth about it?"

"It doesn't feel like a parent thing," Emily answered, "and Elizabeth … well she has other things on her mind. I get lost in my own little world sometimes Lainey. My focus has been on not remembering and trying to adjust to the world around me. I've been so intent on that you know? So intent that I've forgotten that the other people are living complicated lives themselves. Jason, Elizabeth, Patrick … I don't want to be so caught up in my problems that I'm not there for them … Why are you smiling?" she questioned.

"Am I? Sorry, it's just that you sound so much like her," Lainey replied. "She was always trying to take care of everyone else around her. Too much sometimes. I often wanted to tell her to take a break from it. To concentrate on herself for a few moments. I never did because I knew she wouldn't."

"So this is a karma thing? Not remembering so I _have_ to focus on myself."

"I don't think it works that way," Lainey offered with a laugh. "But if you're ready I liked to use our next session to help you start remembering more."

"I am ready," Emily answered.

"Good. Then I'll see you in two days. Same time work for you?" she asked looking at date book.

"Yep."

"Great. I'll see you then Emily," Lainey said shaking her hand.

"I look forward to it," Emily replied. Grabbing her coat and purse she left Lainey's office to go in search of Elizabeth. It was time to be a friend.

Heading around the corner Emily bumped into a solid wall of man. She felt his hands on her arms bracing her so she wouldn't fall. "Sorry," she said her gaze sliding up to meet a familiar face. "Sonny," she breathed out his name awkwardly.

He smiled down at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered stepping back from him quickly. Emily saw hurt flash in his eyes, but he didn't protest or try to stop her. For over a week now he'd respected her request and stayed away; and she appreciated that.

On the spot Emily decided if she was going to look outside herself, maybe she should look at more then just Jason, Elizabeth and Patrick. Sonny had proven that he was worth extending friendship to, plus he had Jason's and Elizabeth's confidence. Before he could sidestep her with a polite goodbye she said, "Thanks for backing off when I asked. I know I wasn't exactly nice about it."

"You're allowed to be whatever you need to be," Sonny said and Emily could tell that he meant it.

"Some people don't get that."

"I know. I'm sorry about that. I could have them _handle_d if you like," he said with a charming smile. There was also a sparkle in his eye and Emily read the twinkle as his way of letting her know that he was only half serious about the offer.

"Thanks," she chuckled, "but no."

"Consider it a standing offer," Sonny replied.

"I think I'm beginning to see why she loved you," Emily remarked with a grin.


	9. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: Happy 2007 All!! I hope you all had a fun and safe New Year's Eve and that the new year treats you well.

_Two Days Later_

Overnight it seemed the weather had turned. From Indian Summer to the brisk windy weather of fall. Though the bright sun vainly tried to warm the city summer jackets were traded for the padded winter coats. Wrapped tightly in her leather jacket Emily stepped out of Kelly's with a large hot chocolate.

The chill in the wind didn't bother her. She had been trapped too long in the hospital for a bit of cold to chase her indoors. So she sat at one of the metal tables on the diner's patio. These slow mornings followed by slower days were starting to get to her. She had no job. No school. Nothing to keep her busy save her sessions with Lainey. All she really had was time. Time to sit and think. Emily was beginning to think that too much alone time, with nothing to do but think, wasn't good for a person. Yes, she spent time with Elizabeth and her son, Cameron. She shared meals with Jason, had run-ins with Patrick, and she'd even spent some time with the Quartermaines, but this lack of purpose was getting to her.

Emily wanted to be productive. _Useful_. She knew her semester of medical school was almost up, but she'd been excused from finals because of her accident. Arrangements had been made for her to make them up whenever she felt up to it. That was fine and dandy, but Emily wasn't sure she even wanted to take them.

Even if studying gave her something to do, she wasn't sure she wanted to be a doctor. She liked the idea of helping people, but wasn't thrilled with the thought of being in a hospital all day long. Musing the situation over Emily took a sip of her drink. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Lorenzo Alcazar until he spoke to her. "Excuse me Miss. Quartermaine. I'd like a moment of your time."

It wasn't a request, Emily knew that, even though his voice was soft and almost welcoming. Or maybe it was the formal way he spoke that hid is intent. "I don't have a moment to give," she replied standing.

"I'd like to know if you've heard from Skye," he said as though he hadn't heard her.

"It is a rather clear day isn't?" she replied.

His blue eyes narrowed, turning into ice, changing his demeanor from aloof to dangerous. "You know that's not what I meant."

A shiver went up Emily's spine. This was not a man to mess with, but she had no intention of cowering in front of him. "Yeah, I guess I do, but if you _listened_ to me at the hospital you'd know I can't help you."

"I don't believe for a second that Skye left her family with no idea of where she went. The Quartermaines mean too much to her."

"If you say so," Emily scoffed as she tried to side step him. Lorenzo grabbed her arm, "I will find her and MY child."

"Bully for you," she shot back letting her anger get the better of her, "but I'm not helping. Even if I knew where Skye was I wouldn't tell you. Now let go of me," Emily instructed.

"You heard her," another masculine voice joined the conversation. His tone clearly indicated is dislike of the situation. Shifting her gaze from Lorenzo to the stranger Emily met an unfamiliar face. It wasn't a new sensation. She noted that he was tense. Worry barely out shone the hostility in his eyes.

"You're not a police officer anymore Spencer," Lorenzo said even as he relinquished the hold he had on her arm.

"No, which means I won't have a problem letting Jason know you're harassing his sister."

"Hello, I'm right here," Emily reminded them. "I don't need anyone to speak for me, but he's right. If you approach me again I will tell Jason," she warned Alcazar, "and he's a mite overprotective of me seeing how I've lost my memory. As in I don't know Skye and I couldn't tell you where she is even if she had told me before she left. So back off."

Lorenzo took her words in stride but she saw the younger man wince when she said she couldn't remember. That when his name hit her. _Spencer_. Lucky Spencer, the man who Jason wanted to kill. The one he blamed for the accident. Emily could hear Lorenzo's voice but she had no idea what he said, she was too busy wrapping her mind around coming face-to-face with Lucky Spencer. "You're him right?" she questioned when they were alone. "The friend. The one who caused the accident."

"Yeah, I'm him," Lucky said his voice harsh with guilt. "This might be a bad time but I really need—"

"I don't care what you need," she said cutting him off. Emily couldn't deal with him and all the implications of their meeting and speaking. "Charges aren't being pressed so it's all the same to you, I rather not."

"I want to respect your wishes Em. I really do," he said in earnest, "but I really need my friend."

Something resonated when he said that. When Lucky said he needed his friend something inside Emily wanted to reach out to him, wanted to help him; and that urge unsettled her. Lucky was standing there with hopeful and expectant eyes, a look she's seen on too many faces. It was a look that usually sparked instant resentment within her, and she tried to muster that feeling now.

He was a _stranger_ after all. Worse he was the reason she was a stranger to herself and he _dared_ to ask her for help. Emily felt indignation build but she wasn't sure what pissed her off more – the fact that he asked for help or the fact that she felt the compulsion to give it? That need didn't make any sense to her. Why? Why should she feel this impulse to help him? There had to be a reason right? There was only one thing she remembered and she threw it out like a gauntlet. "Purple lips."

Lucky blinked at her words. They were so out of left field that it took a moment for them to sink in. Once they did he grinned. "It's a bit little late in the year for a snow cone Em, but if you really want one—"

"You know what it means?" she asked, her breath catching.

"What? Purple lips?" he inquired. At her nod Lucky continued, "You like having them. They could cheer you up no matter what and always have. They were always good for an apology too. You could never stay mad at me when I had a snow cone."

"I remembered that I liked grape flavored things."

"Emily that's great!" Lucky said enthused, but she continued to speak as if he hadn't said a word. "That I liked having purple lips. It's the only thing I've recalled so far," she informed him.

"I'm glad you're remembering Em."

"Why? So I can be the friend you need," she posed, her voice dripping with acid.

Lucky flinched at her tone. "I do need you—"

"HER," Emily spat.

"Fine," Lucky replied, irritation seeping into his voice. "I need _her_, but if she or you, decide never to be my friend again I'll deal. I want you to remember for you Emily. The good, the bad and everything in between because you were an amazing person. A light for everyone who ever met you. I didn't just take that away from you, but from everyone else and I'm so, so sorry for that. I put you into this place of not knowing and for a minute I was jealous of you."

"I made such a mess out of my life," he explained. "I've hurt everyone I love and for what? _Some pills_. I threw my life away for them and stole yours – I'll always regret that. Just as I regret everything I've done since I first got hooked on the pills. There aren't any take-backs in life though. Hell, I'm not sure I can even make up for what I've done. All I know is that I want to try. Please," Lucky begged, "let me try."

Tears pooled in her eyes and Emily fought against them. She wanted to hate to him and not just for the accident but for touching her now. For knowing something that one on else did. This man who had wrecked more then just her life or his – she wanted to hate him, but couldn't. "I—I can't do this with you Lucky. Not now. Please, please I need you to stay away from me."

"Em," he said her name softly as he reached out for her.

"For now Lucky. _Please_," Emily pleaded.

Lucky dropped his arm and looked at her with such sadness that Emily felt her defenses crumbling. "All right. All right," he sighed. "I just need you to know that I'm here Em. Whenever—if you're ever ready I'm here."

His words sounded like a solemn vow; one that he would keep no matter what. Emily wasn't sure how to respond so she nodded before walking away leaving her cup forgotten on the table.

!BREAK!

Knocking on the door to the lake house was difficult for Jason. Every step he'd taken toward the house twisted something in him. This was where Sam slept with Ric and he could feel his anger grow as he remembered that night – every time he did the sting of betrayal felt fresh. The anger and pain, his hatred of Ric. It all bubbled to the surface.

As much as he loved and needed Sam, Jason was having trouble letting go of those feelings. He knew it did no good to dwell on them. He couldn't change what happen or take back his own actions and now there was a possibility of a child. _His child with Elizabeth_.

Carly was right. The news would be a blow to Sam and if he turned out to be the baby's father … Jason wasn't sure. Elizabeth insisted that she wanted to raise her children on her own. He couldn't fault her for that. He lived a dangerous life. As much as he wanted to be a father, he wasn't sure he should be. He was not concerned with loving and providing for a child, rather with protecting them. He had enemies. That came with the business. At this point even if he wanted to leave the business he couldn't, which meant any child he had would be in danger.

Jason had learn the hard way, as much as you try to protect the people you love, you don't always succeed. Bad things happen no matter the preventative measures taken, including pushing people away. He knew now that he should have let Sam decide whether being with him was risk she was willing to take or not. She, however, knew enough to understand those risks. A child wouldn't.

Still if the baby was his Jason knew he wouldn't be able to walk away from the responsibility of parenthood. It was only a matter of how much his life would change and a lot of that depended on Sam and if he could forgive her.

Not to mention if she should forgive him and accept Elizabeth's child should it be his.

"Hey there," Sam greeted moments after he knocked. Her dark eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. "It's really good to see you," she breathed heading straight for you arms. "Alexis is getting worse," she explained into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he replied embracing her. For the first time the past wasn't between them and Jason took pleasure in the feel of her in his arms.

"Jason I know you have a lot of stuff going on right now with Emily and we've," she faltered. Sniffing Sam looked up into his eyes, "I really need you. Could you just hold me? Please."

He nodded and she tucked her head under his chin. Sam held onto him tight and Jason began to run a hand through her long, dark tresses in hopes of soothing her. He wanted to comfort her, not make things more difficult. He knew telling Sam about the baby now would only hurt her so he decided then and there to wait until he knew for certain.

!BREAK!

"Why did you let me get away with the just friends speech?" Patrick inquired as he and Robin entered the locker room. They'd spent the last six hours in surgery and he was bone weary. Still he couldn't stop Lainey's comment from circling around in his mind.

"Now is not the time for this discussion," Robin yawned, her forehead resting against her locker.

She was tugging her hair out of the ponytail she had it when Patrick replied, "I know that. Believe me I know that. We're tired and I know how hard April's death has been on you. It's been hard on me too."

"I know," Robin sighed turning so that she'd be able to look at him while they spoke. "So why throw this on top of all of that?"

"Because I need to know Robin. We had something," Patrick recalled.

"Something you clearly weren't ready for," she pointed out. "I could see that Patrick and while it hurt to let us go, it was right thing for you and for me. I can't be with someone halfway. I've learned that about myself because of you."

"That's a crap lesson," he remarked dropping his exhausted frame down onto the narrow bench.

"No, it's a mixed one," she countered, "and I wouldn't trade our time for anything, but there is no going back."

"Robin, not to sound like a jerk, but I wasn't looking to go back," Patrick told her. "Just to understand."

"What? What is there to understand?" she asked shrugging her shoulders. "We were _kind _of a couple, but neither of us wanted it to get serious. Every time it did one of us took a step back. Not just you Patrick, **I **did too," Robin reminded him. "Which is why when you said let's be friends I knew it was for the best. We tried to get over the relationship hump but couldn't. I'm not sorry that we tried, though I was a little disappointed that we failed."

"So was I," he told her truthfully. "You were the first person I wanted to try with."

"There will be others," Robin assured him.

An image of Emily flashed through Patrick's mind and knew Robin was right, but at the moment he wished she wasn't. He was still waiting for his HIV results and Emily couldn't remember that before the accident she had absolutely no romantic inclination towards him. He did though. Even as they flirted he knew that if it wasn't for the accident Emily wouldn't have looked at him twice and vice versa. Patrick knew he couldn't unload these particular thoughts on Robin. It was too soon for that, so instead he replied, "For you too. You shouldn't stop looking."

A weary smile touched her lips, "I don't plan on it."


	10. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: Thank you all so much for your reviews. They're much appreciated.

Patrick knew better then to drink his problems away. He'd seen his father fall down that dark and harrowing abyss and he had no intentions of following in his footsteps. Still that hadn't stopped him from allowing himself a rare occasion of going for a solitary drink after a particularly trying day.

Today was one of those days. He was exhausted from his surgery and emotionally wrung out after his conversation with Robin. He should have headed back to the hotel and slept for 12-hours after a hot shower and some room service. Instead he made his way to Jake's for a drink.

He wanted the smokiness and noise Jake's could provide. Patrick wanted to lose himself in it so he wouldn't have to think anymore. His mind could be blessedly blank while he nursed a scotch. After that he'd go to home to the Metro Court, have his shower and dinner, and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep. Though if he was honest with himself Patrick didn't mind the erotic dreams of Emily he'd been having of late.

Honesty was exactly what Patrick was trying to avoid at the moment. "Doc," Coleman greeted as he slid onto the sticky barstool.

"Coleman," he nodded a greeting in return. "Can I get scotch, neat. Make it a double."

"Sure thing," he replied with a click of tongue against his lips. Patrick watched as the barman poured the alcohol into an unsophisticated, but clean glass. "Here you go," Coleman drawled his words together as he placed the drink in front of him.

"Thanks," Patrick replied wrapping his hand around the glass but not lifting it. That's how he stayed for the next few minutes. He sat perfectly still, his eyes glazing over at the sight of his own reflection in the mirror. He barely took note of Coleman placing a basket of chips near his elbow before he turned his attention to blonde at the end of the bar.

A few months ago be vying for the scantily-clad woman's attention, but it wasn't just his possible HIV status that was stopping him. He was over obvious women. Patrick took it as a sign of finally growing up. "It's not all it's cracked up to be," he muttered under his breath before finally taking sip of his scotch. It burned its way down his throat and warmed his belly. As the drink settled he took a deep, relaxing breath.

Patrick was just beginning to dig into the chips when he saw dark hair, draped over leather reflected in the mirror. Before he got a good look at her face he knew it was Emily. _I really can't catch a break_, he cursed silently.

When Emily's gaze met his in the mirror, he saw that she forced a smile. "Hi," she said, her voice all fake cheer as she approached him. "Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head because he didn't think speaking was the intelligent thing to do at the moment. Yes, of course, he wanted her company, he just didn't think it was good thing for either of them. If that wasn't bad enough, he was forgetting why he thought that in the first place.

Emily took her jack it off and draped it over the stool before sitting down. "It's been a long time," Coleman noted as he slithered up the bar. He was smiling at Emily. It was flirty smile which annoyed Patrick, but it was not predatory as his come-on smile to the blonde had been. Clearly the man was intimidated by her connections to Sonny and Jason.

"I guess it has been," Emily sighed. Patrick knew that tone. It was her I'm-stick-of-everyone-knowing-me-but-me tone and he wondered who she had a run in with. It had to have been a bad encounter to have her showing up here. To a place she probably thought no one would know her or bother her.

"Tequila?" the barkeep asked.

"Why not," she replied before sending him a sideways glance. It was a challenging look, as if she expected him to protest her choice of beverage or even her decision to be there in the first place.

"Lick it, slam it, suck it," he said as the shot was placed in front of her.

Emily's eyebrow quirked. "Excuse me?" she asked laughter evident in her voice.

"That's how it was explained to me," Patrick replied with a grin.

"By me?"

"And a few of your friends," he answered.

A thoughtful look came over her face at his words. "Friends," she said the word softly as she spun the shot glass with her thumb and index finger. "They're never quite what you expect them to be."

Patrick shimmied on his stool so that he was facing her instead of the mirror. "No, I suppose they're not."

"I ran into—" Emily stopped abruptly. Instead of continuing her thought she did as he suggested. He watched fascinated has her tongue slid over the tender flesh between her thumb and index finger before she gulped down the shot. Patrick couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if she was biting down on his neck instead of the slice of lemon. "Another please," she requested of Coleman.

Tequila spilled into the shot glass as Emily turned to face him. "I'm tired of myself and my own drama," she confided. "I haven't exactly been a _friend_ to you of late. So what brings you here Doctor Drake?"

At the moment Patrick wasn't exactly feeling friendly, but he managed to squelched his impure thoughts and answer her question. "Just having a drinking."

"You could do that at hotel you live at, the Metro Court, couldn't you?" she pointed out. "So why come here?"

"To enjoy the ambiance," Patrick offered.

Emily let out a hoot of laughter. "What's not enjoy?" She turned and did a quick survey of the bar, "The clack of pool cues, the ancient rock music, the dim lighting that smacks of something out of a wannabe noir movie."

"I see you're turning into quite the movie buff.."

"Nah," she shrugged her shoulders. "I saw Dillon – my cousin – the other day. He doesn't know what to say to me, so he starts in on movies. It's kind of cute until he gets into the all technical mumbo-jumbo."

"Mumbo-jumbo?" he questioned amused.

"What?" Emily asked, her cheeks flushing. "It's a perfectly acceptable phrase. Would you rather I have said gobbledygook or gibberish?"

Patrick let out a deep laugh. "No. No. And I rather not squabble over word choice if it's all the same to you."

"Me either," Emily agreed and lifted her shot. "No more squabbling," she toasted. Patrick clinked his glass against hers, but waited until she was done with the lick it, slam it, suck it ritual before taking a sip of his own drink. Resting her chin on her knuckles, Emily eyed him and said, "Now I think you owe me a real answer to my question."

"It was along day and I wanted an anonymous drink."

"I guess I ruined that for you. Sorry," she offered with sheepish grin.

"That's all right. I probably would have ended up stewing anyhow. I can't seem to help myself lately," Patrick confided without meaning to.

"Boy do I know that feeling." Having said that she flagged Coleman down for another shot. "Stew and talk, and stew and talk. That's how I fill my days."

"Sounds rough," Patrick remarked, his tone mocking.

"Hey now," Emily protested, shoving his shoulder slightly, "it can be. I know you're magnificent and all, but don't you ever get tired of yourself?"

Patrick couldn't stopped himself from repeating, "Magnificent?"

Again she flushed, and the alcohol carried from her cheeks into her neck. "If you're not careful I'm never going to say a nice thing about you again."

"Don't worry. There are scores of people willing to take up where you leave off."

"Why don't I doubt it?" Emily asked with a shake of her head. "I bet you even have an official fan club and everything."

"Now there's something to take into consideration." He pretended to mull it over, scratching at his chin while Emily gaped him.

"Sometimes I really don't know what to make out of you Patrick. You can be so charming but arrogant, distant but supportive, you're self-deprecating and funny. You're obviously brilliant with that surgeon's mind, not to mention easy on the eyes."

"Keep going, this does wonders for my ego."

"Yeah, I imagine it does, but you hide behind it. Why?" Emily inquired.

Patrick sighed, "I really don't want to be serious tonight Emily. That's why I came here. I wanted to unwind with a drink and then go back to my room for dinner and a good night's sleep."

"That's the truth isn't, and not some kind of deflection?"

"Yes," he answered, "that's the truth."

Emily glanced down at her drink and then met his gaze again. "Would you tell me sometime?" she asked leaning into him.

"Yeah, I would," he replied. Without thinking about it Patrick brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen into her face.

"How about tomorrow?" she suggested.

"Tomorrow?" he asked startled as he shifted back from her.

"We could have dinner."

"Emily, I … we're – I don't want to date you," he lied.

Hurt flashed in her eyes and she backed away from him. "I wasn't," she started to protest before hurt turned to anger. "I guess friends don't have dinner in your world."

"Emily."

"Don't," she cut him off as she stood. "You don't have to explain it to me. You've been kind and clearly I misinterpreted a doctor's care for friendship. I'm sorry about that, but I won't make that mistake again." Emily pulled her jacket off the stool and headed for the door.

"Would you just wait?" Patrick demanded grabbing her forearm. "This isn't about you all right? It's about me and the fact that before your accident we weren't friends."

"So?" she challenged.

"You've started to remember Emily. It's only a matter of time before you know yourself again."

"And what, I hated you?"

"No."

"Then what?" Emily asked. "It's not like I'm going to forget everything that's happened since waking up."

"I know that," Patrick assured her, "but your memories might color everything and I don't want you to feel like I—that I …"

"What? That you what Patrick?" Emily asked visibly irritated.

"That I took advantage of you," he explained.

Emily shook her head in disbelief. "What am I stupid now? Incapable of making sound decisions?"

"No, just informed ones," he stated sadly.

"Well he's an informed decision for you Patrick," she seethed jerking away from him. "Screw you!"

He didn't try to stop her this time. Instead he watched her storm out of Jake's and into the night. "You handled that well," Coleman commented with a whistle.

"Shut up," Patrick scowled.

"Whatever, but she stomped out of here before settling up. Since that's your fault you're covering the bill."

"Fine," he said wearily. Patrick pulled a fifty out of his wallet. "Keep the change," he said before exiting the bar. Outside he scanned the parking lot for her, but she wasn't there. He took a deep breath of cold air before he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Emily's number unsure of what he was going to say.

It rang four times before going to voice mail. "I'm an idiot," he said after the beep. "A colossal idiot. I know that and if you would give me the chance to explain I would really appreciate it. So come to dinner with me tomorrow night. Neutral ground, Kelly's around seven? Listen if you're not there … I'm sorry."

!BREAK!

"Wait? Patrick actually said the words 'I'm sorry?'" Elizabeth asked over the buzz of voices, feet moving, and food being prepared and served. They were sitting at a small table on the far side of cafeteria were the bustling sounds of the hospital's lunch crowd was muffed to a tolerable level.

"Yes. Is that a novelty?" she inquired pushing the food around on her plate. Hospital food still looked as unappealing as ever and Emily had no real intention of eating it. Lunch was just the only time Elizabeth had available today, so she agreed to brave General Hospital's cafeteria.

"For Patrick, yeah it is," Elizabeth answered before taking a large bite of her pasta. Emily decided that pregnant women must have iron stomachs because her friend was wolfing down her meal. "I think you should go."

"Because he said he's sorry?"

"He also admitted to being an idiot," Elizabeth reminded her. "I've never known Patrick to admit he's wrong. So yes, I think you should cut him some slack and hear him out. I mean it's just a friendly dinner."

"Actually, it wouldn't be," Emily informed her.

"What do you mean?" her friend asked intrigued.

Emily shifted uncomfortably in her hard, plastic chair. "We've kind of been flirting and I like Patrick."

"As in _like_ him, like him?" Elizabeth demanded her blue eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes. And the jerk thinks I can't make an informed decision," Emily growled stabbing her meatloaf.

Elizabeth sighed. "Maybe he has a point Emily."

"What?" she sputtered, too shocked to be angry.

"Things, and I'm not talking about your relationships with Nikolas or Sonny," she clarified, "but other things happened that you haven't remembered."

"Things with Patrick or just in general?"

"In general. Besides," Elizabeth continued quickly, "you have to remember that Patrick has his own issues. He's still waiting on his final HIV test."

"I know that, but HIV positive or not he's still Patrick and I still like him. Or at least I did until he was an idiot," she stated pushing her tray away. The congealing grease was getting to be too much to look at and smell.

"All men act like idiots, they can't help themselves," Elizabeth offered supportively.

"Jason doesn't," Emily countered.

"So says his adoring sister. None of us are perfect Emily, not even Jason, but that doesn't mean we cut our losses and move on."

"I thought you said Patrick had a point," she grumbled.

"He does, and so do you. The situation is complicated," Elizabeth reminded her. "You both need to speak your piece before any decisions are made. So go to dinner tonight. If Patrick is still an idiot at least you tired and won't be left wondering."

"I guess," Emily replied still not completely convinced.


End file.
